


Shoot 'Em Up

by DontmesswithPeanuts



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/F, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, John is not, Just in a few chapters though, Post 5X13, Root is Alive, Sexual Content, Spanking, Spinoff, as canon compliant as possible, with a little twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:43:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 86,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7060843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontmesswithPeanuts/pseuds/DontmesswithPeanuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... AND MAYBE, THIS ISN'T THE END AT ALL.</p><p> </p><p>          >>>-----Sh00t-----></p><p> <br/>A Person of Interest/Shoot spinoff where Root and Shaw (and Bear, of course) are working numbers with the Machine 3.0, kicking ass and being domestic after Samaritan is destroyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (Prolog) This is the end. Or is it?

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t usually write in second person, but I think the first chapter requires this kind of narrative mode to gain the very specific perspective I have in mind. For the following chapters I’ll use third person point of view. So, please bear with me :)

 

“I LEARNED EVERYONE DIES ALONE. BUT, IF YOU MEANT SOMETHING TO SOMEONE, IF YOU HELPED SOMEONE, OR LOVED SOMEONE, IF EVEN A SINGLE PERSON REMEMBERS YOU, THEN MAYBE YOU NEVER REALLY DIE.

… AND MAYBE, THIS ISN’T THE END AT ALL.”

 

 

\-----SHOOT---‘EM---UP----->

 

 

     Pain.

    

     That’s the first and only thing you feel as you recover consciousness. There’s so much pain, burning through your chest and your abdomen, like a raging fire on its way to consume you completely.

 

     It hurts. More than anything, you ever felt before. Or, so you think, because you can’t remember much at this moment. Just…

 

_Finch… in a car. A sniper on the roof._

 

     Fragments of memory are flashing through your brain, battling with the pain, which occupies your mind nearly completely.

 

_A bullet smashing through the windshield. One more gunshot wound._

 

     You try to move, but your body doesn’t obey you. You can’t feel your limbs.

 

_The police stopping your car. A voice in your ear, sounding strangely like your own, telling you sorry. Then… darkness._

 

     Panic floods you like a tsunami wave. You feel your heart racing. Breathing is hard, too. You feel like you’re suffocating, despite the oxygen mask covering your nose and mouth.

 

_Where am I? Where are the others?_

 

     Agonizing pain clouds your mind and you want to scream, but no sound comes out. It seems like you’re a prisoner in your own body.

 

     “Damn, she’s waking up”, you hear a voice, muffled to your ears. Like the person is far away. However, you notice that the voice is female. And, the woman sounds stressed. Obviously because you’re becoming conscious at the very moment.“I need more Propofol. Now! We have to put her under again.” The voice once more.

 

     You try to open your eyes, but it seems impossible. Anyway, you hear more voices now, the sounds louder than before.

 

     “… more blood bags. She’s bleeding out.”

 

     “Heartbeat and blood pressure are falling, doctor.”

 

     You try to open your eyes again, despite the pain. You’re a fighter, and a few moments later your eyelids flutter open, actually.

 

     Bright light is blinding you and you have to blink a few times to see anything.

 

     “Damn it, put her to sleep again!” you hear the female voice again. Apparently, it belongs to a doctor.

 

     Your vision is blurred, and you can’t move your head, but your surroundings look like you’re in a hospital, in surgery to be exact.

 

     The OR lights above your head are bright and hot. There are people standing around you, wearing green scrubs, working on your damaged body. You hear machines beeping.

 

_Machines…_

 

_The Machine._

 

     As if She can read your mind, Her voice is in your ear suddenly. No, not _Her_ voice. It’s your _own_ voice, you hear. But, it’s _Hers_ now, too. It’s strange, but kind of comforting at once.

 

_“I’m sorry. I couldn’t prevent this.”_

 

 _It’s okay_ , you want to say, but your voice fails you. The sounds around you are more muffled now, again. Your vision gets more blurred with every second passing. However, the pain is dulled, too, so that works for you.

 

_“Your friends are alive.”_

 

     You’re relieved to hear this. If you could work your face, you would smile, despite the coldness creeping through your body.

 

_“Your chance of survival is 21.36 % at the moment… I’m sorry. The doctor is doing everything she can.”_

 

 _I’m dying_ , you realize.

 

     You think you should be terrified at the thought of dying. Angry at least. However, all you can feel right now is sadness. You’re sad that you have to leave this world when you felt happy the most.

 

 _“It’s okay”_ , your own voice is whispering in your ear as you slowly lose your ties to this world. _“I’ll be there with them. And I’m here with you.”_

 

     Your voice, _no_ , _Her_ voice calms you, even as the machines around you start a frantic beeping.

 

     “…losing her!” The female doctor again.

 

     There’s no pain anymore. The hectic beeping turns into a single long beep.

 

     “She’s flat lining!” The voice is far away.

 

     There’s nothing at all. Just one sole thought.

 

_Sameen…_

 

_“Don’t be afraid, Root.”_

 

     It’s the last thing you hear as your eyes flutter close and darkness surrounds you.

 


	2. What I've won and what I've lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sameen Shaw got herself a mission. Right by her side: an all-seeing God, who has a few issues now and then, and won’t shut up the rest of the time. This ASI really reminded her of Root. She didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter to my little spinoff. Have fun reading! (You can listen to some music while reading, if you like. Just use the URLs I inserted.)
> 
> This story isn’t beta’ed. English isn’t my first language. So please excuse any mistakes I made. Feedback is welcome :)

 

* * *

 

 

 

If there was one thing in the world, that Sameen Shaw hated the most, it was waiting. Sitting around and not doing something made her fidgety and annoyed. However, right now she was exactly doing that: Waiting in the shadows of an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn for the ASI in her ear to quit her standby mode and talk to her.

 

“Come on. How much more time do you need to assess the situation? I thought you’re a Superintelligence”, Shaw muttered under her breath.

 

_“I’m sorry that I’m not as fast as my predecessor, Sameen. At least, not yet.”_

 

The former ISA operative rolled her eyes at the Machine’s answer. _No, wait._ It was the Machine 3.0 to be exact. The version, which revived itself using its core heuristics after Samaritan’s downfall a few days ago. The Machine 2.0 left her memories for her duplicate, and She was learning fast. Nevertheless, the new system was young, kind of a baby ASI, and it had a few problems still.

 

_“My system’s laggy.”_

 

_Or, many of them._

 

Shaw rolled her eyes once again. _No shit, Sherlock_ , she thought. “What good for is an ASI in your ear, when She can’t give you any useful information?” she complained, shaking her head.

 

 _“No need to be rude, Sameen. Have a little patience”_ , the ASI answered, the last part in a sing-song voice.

 

The Persian woman gave a low growl. _Is it possible somehow to kick an Artificial Intelligence’s ass?_ The former ISA agent didn’t know why she still allowed the Machine to use her dead friend’s voice. And it wasn’t just that. The ASI imitated Root’s way of speaking, _hell_ , She even flirted with her. It was irritating most of the time, really.

 

But, it was also kind of comforting.

 

Shaw wasn’t a person, who you would call sentimental. She wasn’t just wired this way. She knew that Root was gone. Just like Reese. _This is real._ _Sadly._ There was no coming back from the dead in these cases. However, Shaw had to admit, that hearing Root’s voice from time to time, even if it was an ASI using it, gave her some sort of solace.

 

Checking the magazine of her USP Compact one more time Shaw replied, “If I don’t get anything useful from you in the next few seconds, I’m going in. Can you do this, or not?”

 

After the Machine made Shaw her new Analog Interface a few days ago and the former kind of agreed to keep working numbers ( _Well, what else should one do, right?_ ), the ex-ISA agent gave herself a mission: to wipe every bit of Samaritan’s last remains off the face of earth.

 

The ASI hadn’t been enthralled much by Shaw’s plan. However, She hadn’t done anything to stop her, besides voicing her concern. She even helped Shaw gathering information. Maybe the ASI knew that this was something Her asset simply _had_ to do.

 

Shaw wasn’t stupid. She knew that her mission was risky and kind of a Sisyphean task. Nevertheless, she didn’t spend the last few days piling up information about some former Samaritan operatives in New York City, just to sit around and put her hands in her lap now. _Dammit_ , she had an all-seeing God in her ear. _How much more advantage could one have?_

 

_Well, assuming that God isn’t glitching right now…_

 

Just as Shaw thought the Machine had gone into unintentional silence once again, the ASI in her ear came back to life. _“Yes, I can, but I get the feeling, you’re trying to get yourself killed”_ , She scolded softly.

 

“No. I don’t.” Shaw shook her head. “I’m trying to prevent a new head from growing after the dragon was slayed.” _And getting revenge for my friends. Like a good soldier does._

 

_“How poetic, Sameen.”_

 

“Whatever”, Shaw grunted and picked up a flash grenade from her backpack. “I’m going in now. You ready?”

 

_“Yes.”_

 

“Good.”

 

_[MUSIC for the following scene: The Prodigy – Firestarter, URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cg258voVSAU]_

 

Getting up from her cowered position behind some stacked wood boxes, Shaw threw the grenade as far as possible in the direction of a bulky man in his mid-forties, who had to be some sort of guard post. The flashbang bounced on the floor a few times, making clattering noises on her way. Bulky needed a few seconds to realize what had been thrown his way. A second too long, because the moment he drew his gun and yelled “Grenade!” the flashbang went off with a loud bang, blinding him momentarily.

 

Leaving her cover, Shaw fired two bullets right into the man’s chest, sending him to the floor. Agitated screaming from the storage room to the left told the Persian that the remaining men had been alerted of her presence. Ducking slightly behind a metal rack the former ISA operative aimed her gun at the storeroom’s exit, waiting for the Machine’s instructions.

 

 _“Eleven o’clock”_ , She ordered.

 

Shaw pulled the trigger, her bullet felling the first man, who emerged.

 

_“Ten o’clock.”_

 

 _Bang._ One more down.

 

_“Three more left.”_

 

“Copy that”, Sameen replied, ducking behind the rack once more as a third man fired his semi-automatic at her. Gunshot after gunshot ricocheted from the rack’s steel surface, but not a single bullet went through.

 

“That’s some solid stuff”, Shaw noted approvingly.

 

 _“149 Dollar by Screw’n’Pound”_ , the Machine informed her.

 

“ _Seriously?_ ” Shaw asked, taken aback slightly. “You’re browsing Amazon while I’m in a fucking firefight?” _And what’s with the X-rated company name, by the way?_

 

 _“Thought you maybe wanted to expand your furniture. Besides, I’m able to multitask”_ , the Machine reminded her with just a hint of arrogance in her voice.

 

Shaw huffed, shaking her head. This ASI really reminded her of Root. She didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing.

 

_“Get ready. He needs to reload in three… two… one… Go!”_

 

Darting up from her cover, Shaw took out the target with one well-aimed headshot. _One down, two to go._

 

_“Up! Four o’clock.”_

 

In a single fluid motion, Shaw turned around and shot at the figure, who’d tried to sneak up on her from the gallery above the Persian woman. The man fell over the railing with a scream, his body crashing down on the concrete with a sickening crack.

 

Shaw followed his fall with her gaze, unmoved. She didn’t know if the Machine was unhappy about her deciding to forget the no-kill-shots-policy.

 

She couldn’t care less at the moment.

 

_“Watch out! Behind you.”_

 

The ex-ISA agent abruptly turned herself around once more – just as a bullet whipped past her left ear, too close for her liking. _The Machine definitely has a few issues…_

 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Shaw cursed under her breath as she dropped down in an instant and rolled sideways behind a large wooden box, to get out of the line of fire. The action caused the graze on her left bicep to reopen, and Shaw felt blood seeping through the fabric of her shirt sleeve. _Damn._

 

The former ISA operative didn’t get a second to catch her breath, because a moment later the last remaining goon appeared above her, standing on the wood box, aiming his gun at her head.

 

 _Fuck. Apparently, I’m not on top of my game_ , Shaw thought for a second. _Neither’s the Machine…_

 

“Game over, whoever you are”, the young blonde man declared with a smirk, trying to look confident, but failing.

 

“Yeah”, Sameen muttered slowly, sensing her opponent’s nervousness, noticing the slight tremor of the hand holding his gun. The man looked like he hadn’t much experience at this. Furthermore, he looked like he was in his early twenties. _Since when did Samaritan recruit kids?_

 

 _“David McCullen. Twenty-four years old. Born and raised in the Bronx. Only child. Father’s dead, mother fights against breast cancer”_ , the Machine listed the pieces of information, she could get. _“Worked for Samaritan for just about three months, running errands. Never killed anyone as far as I can tell.”_

 

Shaw hummed quietly. Staring at the former Samaritan lackey, she slowly raised her hands, her gun hanging from her index finger.

 

“Seems like the two of us have a problem here, David”, the Persian started, her voice calm and steady.

 

“Wha-? How do you know my name? Who are you?” the former Samaritan agent asked, slightly startled.

 

Sameen just shrugged, holding her opponents gaze. “That doesn’t matter. _What_ matters is the fact that you have two options right now, David.”

 

“Sto-stop talking or I’ll shoot you!” the young man threatened, his voice slightly shaking.

 

“Option A”, Shaw went on, unimpressed, “I shoot you.”

 

Blonde guy gave a snort. Seemingly, he couldn’t imagine how she could do this with a weapon trained at her.

 

The former ISA agent smirked slightly at his naivety. “Option B”, she went on, “you put your gun down and go back to your home in the Bronx. Your mother needs you.”

 

The young man gaped at her, his grip on his gun loosening slightly. “How do you-?”

 

“Time’s up”, Shaw simply stated, while getting hold of her gun and aiming it at her opponent in one fluid motion. She fired two times, the gunshots echoing between the concrete walls of the warehouse. The whole action only took a split second.

 

 _“Well, that was a little bit risky, don’t you think?”_ the Machine scolded in her ear, while Shaw rounded the wooden box to get a better look at the man she just shot. The man, who rolled on the concrete floor right now, groaning in pain.

 

_Getting kneecapped does this to you…_

 

“Seems like today’s your lucky day”, Sameen muttered, watching the man on the floor unfazed, as she kicked his gun out of the way. _Just in case._ “You said that the chance of getting shot was only 16.84 percent. So no big risk, I would say”, she answered the ASI.

 

_“Yeah, I said that, Sweetie, but…”_

 

Shaw huffed. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

 

 _“Sorry.”_ A pause. _“You’re bleeding.”_

 

The Persian woman contracted her brows. She could feel the sharp pain in her left shoulder now. Withdrawing her right hand after touching the stinging spot, Shaw could see the blood on her fingertips. _Fucking great. A graze above the graze._

 

“Your math sucks.”

 

 _“Hey!”_ the Machine complained. _“My calculation didn’t include graze shots.”_

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Amateur.”

 

The Machine just huffed.

 

Grabbing the whimpering man by the collar of his jacket, the Persian woman hoisted him up slightly and backed him up against a wall, kneeling over him. Getting in his face, Shaw growled, “Okay, Blondie. What were you and your buddies up to? Tell me and you’ll live. Probably.”

 

The young man just stared at her with wide eyes, still whimpering. Fear and pain apparent on his face.

 

The ex-ISA agent hiked up her eyebrows, shaking her head disapprovingly, when Blondie still wasn’t answering. She shrugged. “Okay, don’t tell me.” Then, after a pause, “You think this is pain? _No._ This is just the tip of the iceberg. If you don’t talk to me right now, you gonna learn how _real_ pain feels like. And then… you’ll die.”

 

Shaw’s threat seemed to loosen the man’s tongue, eventually. “No! No. Please… I-I’ll tell you”, he stammered fearfully.

 

Sameen nodded and bit back a tiny smirk. _Just the right amount of persuading can do wonders._

 

“Decima hired u-us to plan an attack”, Blondie explained.

 

“ _Where?_ ”

 

“The-the Metropolitan Opera.”

 

Shaw knitted her brows. “Why?” she demanded to know.

 

Blondie swallowed. “P-please. They’ll kill me.”

 

“Not if _I_ do it now”, the former ISA operative threatened, shoving the muzzle of her USP Compact between his ribs.

 

The young man hissed in pain. “O-okay.” He swallowed once more. “There’s a charity concert the day after tomorrow. A lot of people are invited. There’ll be many officials and politicians. The Iranian ambassador will be there, too. Samaritan’s gone, the Northern Lights program rendered defunct. Decima thinks that if there’ll be an attack on an event like this, our government may give green light for a similar system.”

 

“But the virus fried everything”, Shaw remarked.

 

Blondie gave a light shrug. “Sure. But, there are a few brilliant IT minds out there. Don’t you think, at least one of them would create something like Samaritan if you offer them the right amount of money?”

 

The former ISA agent didn’t dignify this with an answer. Instead, she asked, “What sort of attack was planned?”

 

“A bomb. Detonating at the center of the opera. Killing as much people as possible.”

 

“Huh.” Shaw nodded. “What did they need _you_ for?”

 

“I got the Met’s construction plans. Had an internship there a few months ago.”

 

_Well, figures…_

 

The Persian woman shook her head.  “I guess the internship was bad.”

 

 

\-----SHOOT---‘EM---UP----->

 

 

A few minutes later Shaw emerged from the warehouse, dragging the kneecapped Decima agent behind by the back of his collar.

 

“You want to tell me why you didn’t see a planned terrorist attack on American soil?” she asked the Machine.

 

_“My system’s still growing, Sameen. It has its gaps. I didn’t have insight into any information regarding this Decima attack.”_

 

“Well, it’s a good thing then that you have me”, Shaw said, smirking slightly. She pressed a button on her phone – and the warehouse behind her blew up with a deafening detonation and a blazing fireball.

 

 _Well, that’s something I could do every day_ , Sameen thought, a smirk on her face.

 

 _“Always fun working with you, darlin’.”_ Obviously, the Machine was happy, too.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

_“Sorry.”_

 

\-----SHOOT---‘EM---UP----->

 

 

It was later that evening, that Shaw returned to the New Yorker apartment the Machine had rented for her under a false identity two days ago, deciding Her asset couldn’t live in a demolished subway station anymore. The furnishing was even more spartan than the one in her old apartment, but Shaw liked it that way. Maybe she would buy some more furniture in the future. _Maybe._

 

Opening the door, Sameen was greeted by one of the few important things in her life. In fact, it literally jumped at her.

 

“Bear!”

 

The Persian woman smiled at the dog happily, despite almost being knocked over by his overly zealous welcoming. Getting down on her knees, Shaw gave the animal a rub between the ears.

 

“Did you miss me, buddy?” the former ISA operative asked, getting her face right in front of the dog’s snout. A friendly lick across her nose was the answer.

 

Sameen gave a little laugh at this, wiping some of Bear’s drool from her face. “Yeah, me too, big guy.” Sighing, Shaw petted the dog’s head. She felt a little bit guilty about having left Bear alone in her apartment, while busting up some former Samaritan goons.

 

 _“Why didn’t you take him with you?”_ the Machine suddenly asked in her ear.

 

Shaw narrowed her eyes. _Hell, can She really read minds now?_

 

 _“I mean”_ , the ASI went on, _“Bear’s a trained military dog. He could be a big help.”_

 

Sameen just shrugged her shoulders, petting the dog furthermore. She knew that the Machine was right. Bear had been helpful, whenever she’d taken him with her on missions in the past. And, with an eye to Shaw’s current activities the Belgian Malinois would be an extremely useful partner. Nevertheless, the ex-ISA agent couldn’t bring herself to take Bear on missions with her. _Not anymore._

 

“Guess, I don’t want him to get hurt”, she replied, eventually.

 

_Guess, I can’t lose him too…_

 

Receiving no response from the ASI, Shaw turned her whole attention back to Bear. “What do you say, buddy? Want to go for a walk?”

 

The dog woofed happily.

 

Getting up from the floor to get Bear’s leash, Sameen grinned.

 

“That’s my boy.”

 

\---

 

_[MUSIC for the following scene: Too Far Moon – Til My Heart Stops, URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPG2ZKJTlKY]_

 

Five minutes later Shaw was walking with Bear alongside the East River. It was already dark, past eleven o’clock. The streetlights engulfed the park at the South Side of Brooklyn Bridge in a white-blue glow. There weren’t much people underway, just a jogger and an elderly couple, taking a late night walk. The air was pleasantly refreshing, but not cold. Just how Shaw liked it.

 

The noises of the traffic were dimmed at nighttime, the sound of the waves more prominent. Sameen sighed, relaxing a little bit. She loved silent walks like this. It was just Bear and her.

 

_“Taking a moonshine walk, Sweetie?”_

 

_And an all-seeing God, that won’t shut up…_

 

Shaw rolled her eyes at the voice coming through her ear bud. “You’re like a stalker, you know that? And what’s with the pet names? Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?”

 

 _“I’m sorry. It’s just…_ she _called you that. So…”_

 

“So what? You thought I would like it?”

 

 _“Well, you haven’t told me to stop using her voice, yet. So, why don’t use the same words_ she _would?”_

 

“Just because you use her voice, you’re not her”, Sameen heatedly grunted.

 

 _“I can imitate Samantha Groves’ characteristics at 99.6 percent accuracy”_ , the ASI pointed out.

 

Shaw huffed. “Still missing 0.4 percent. And a body. You know, the thing that makes us _human_.”

 

_And you would call her Root…_

 

The Machine was silent.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes once more. _Is it possible for an Artificial Superintelligence to pout?_

 

“Listen, Big Sister. Instead of trying to be someone you’re not, try to do your job, alright? That means holding your artificial eyes open for irrelevant and relevant numbers, including possible terrorist attacks.”

 

 _“We just uncovered a planned attack on the Metropolitan Opera”_ , the Machine tried to defend herself.

 

“Well, not trying to be a spoilsport here, but it was _me_ , who discovered the threat”, the former ISA operative reminded the ASI. “Thanks to _me_ , Lionel could warn the organizers of the charity concert of a possible terrorist attack. Which won’t happen, because _I_ took out the goons, who should have started the fireworks. _You_ , on the other hand, seem to have problems to get your information right, because you have your circuit boards in a bunch.”

 

 _“No need to be childish, Sameen”_ , the Machine replied, a slight pout audible in her voice. It awfully reminded the new Analog Interface of a certain chestnut haired hacker…

 

Shaw smirked lightly, then frowned. _Am I really bickering with an ASI, which sounds like Root?_

 

For a few moments both of them were silent, with Shaw looking at the waves of the East River.

 

 _“You could really need backup, if you’ll keep working numbers”_ , the Machine said, eventually.

 

“You know that I’m good at working alone”, Shaw simply stated, while petting Bear’s head.

 

_“Doesn’t mean you have to.”_

 

Shaw just huffed. Memories of her and Root working, shooting, fighting side by side suddenly flooded her brain. _We really were good together._

 

The Persian woman shook her head to get rid of her thoughts. Root was dead. Gone. These memories were just… painful.

 

 _God, I don’t do sad_ , Sameen thought. _I don’t do the whole overcome-by-grief-and-wallow-in-self-pity thing._ _I’m not wired that way._

 

_But, why did it hurt so much then, deep down in her chest?_

 

“You do miss her”, the Machine’s voice drifted to Shaw’s ear. It was a statement, not a question, being clear whom She meant with _her_.

 

 _Well, I’m sure now, that She can read minds_ , Sameen thought. _Kinda creepy…_

 

“Yeah, I do”, the former ISA operative admitted, after a beat. _Deeply._

 

The ASI hummed. _“Well, I think it’s time for a little reunion”_ , she simply stated, causing Shaw to frown.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

_“Oh, you’ll see.”_


	3. I wake in Montauk with you near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw isn’t fond of the little games the Machine 3.0 apparently likes to play. Even less when the ASI’s antics lead her to the back of beyond…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys. Writing in English takes some time... But I hope, the chapter is worth the waiting ;) 
> 
> Feedback's welcome, as usual.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, tell me again why I’m on my way to Montauk”, Shaw demanded to know, slightly irritated. After a beat. “Oh, wait, I forgot. _You didn’t tell me yet!_ ”

 

 _“Just a little more patience, Sameen”_ , the Machine singsongs in her ear, sounding oh so much like one particular crazy hacker.

 

It was strange, really. Sometimes She sounded mechanical, not at all like Root even though She was using her voice. Other times, She did an accurate impression of Root. Like she was doing right now. It seemed so wrong and so right at the same time.

 

The former ISA rolled her eyes.

 

_I swear, if this Robot Overlord had an ass I could kick right now…_

 

Sighing Shaw decided to swallow her anger for once and to trust the Machine, as she had done so many times before. She was starting to understand what Root had meant, when she’d said that the ASI often didn’t let her see the whole picture.

 

Right now, the former ISA agent had exactly one piece in the puzzle: a random address the Machine gave her this morning. Located in Montauk. Just that, nothing more.

 

Shaw had been irritated, to put it mildly. After the Machine 3.0 had called her on a payphone a few days ago to tell her – in Root’s voice – that She’d survived, that her core operations were back up, the ex-operative had been glad. Because the Machine’s survival meant that their fight, all the sacrifices they’d made, all the deaths weren’t in vain.

 

Furthermore, it meant that she wasn’t out of a job. With the numbers to start coming again, Shaw would have something that would occupy her time and her mind again. _Far better than to sit around and ask yourself, if this could be a simulation still…_

 

Well, that was a week ago now. And so far Big Sister had been glitching and rambling, in turns. But, She didn’t spit out any numbers. _Hell_ , She didn’t even see the impending terrorist attack on the Metropolitan Opera.

 

 _Obviously, God isn’t really all-seeing and all-knowing at the moment_ , Sameen thought grimly.

 

Nevertheless, despite the lack of further information on behalf of the glitching god in her ear, Shaw had decided to follow the lead the Machine had given her. Which was the reason why she drove her black BMW 7 up the NY 27 right now, with Bear on the passenger seat beside her.

 

The dog was obviously happy about the fact that he hadn’t been left behind this time, hanging his snout out of the open window and panting cheerfully. At least he looked like he had fun.

 

 _Well, that’s one of us_ , Shaw thought. She was annoyed by the Machine’s little games, frustrated that she couldn’t make sense of Her cryptic words.

 

_‘Time for a reunion’, She’d said. What reunion, for fuck’s sake?_

 

The former ISA operative shook her head. If this was the Machine’s definition of fun, there was still a lot to learn for Her.

 

\-----

 

Twenty minutes later Shaw passed the blue city limit sign of Montauk. She rolled her eyes at the picture of the famous lighthouse.

 

“You want me to go sight-seeing, or what?” she asked the Machine, sarcastically.

 

_“Well, I can recommend a visit of Montauk Point Lighthouse. The view at the ocean is said to be beautiful…”_

 

“ _Urgh!_ ” Sameen vented her anger at the Machine’s antics with a guttural sound and slammed her hand at the wheel, startling Bear slightly. “Fuck this, okay? If you don’t tell me right now why I had to drive to the back of beyond…”

 

 _“Then what, Sameen?”_ the ASI asked, sounding amused.

 

Shaw gaped at the air for a moment. _Is She mocking me now?!_ “I think of something”, she grumbled after a moment.

 

The Machine hummed. _“Just drive ahead.”_ Begrudgingly Sameen did so.

 

 _“Now turn left”_ , the ASI ordered after a few minutes of silent driving through the small town. The ex-ISA agent steered the wheel to the left without a word, entering a lane leading to the shore of Lake Montauk.

 

 _“We’re here”_ , the Machine stated, eventually.

 

Shaw stopped the car in front of a small house with white windows, the rest of the building painted in pastel blue. It was slightly isolated because of the woodland surrounding it. In the distance, you could see the glistening water of the lake.

 

 _“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”_ the Machine’s soft voice tuned into her new interface’s earpiece.

 

Staring at the building in front of her, the former ISA operative turned off the ignition. “You let me drive all the way up here so I can look at a big chunk of candy?” Shaw deadpanned. _Who the fuck paints his house in the color of cotton candy?_

 

_“Harold bought this house a few years ago under an alias.”_

 

 _Explains it._ Although Sameen didn’t think that Finch had coated the walls with paint himself. _However, who knows…_

 

“Please don’t tell me you want me to live here”, Shaw mumbled, still staring at the soft blue horror. “Because I can’t guarantee I won’t shoot the neighbors after a few days.”

 

The Machine laughed at that.

 

_She fucking laughs. Okay, now I’m really creeped out…_

 

 _“Don’t worry, Sameen. I didn’t send you here to move in.”_ A beat. _“But, I’m sure you’d like to stay after you’d found out the reason for your trip”_ , the Machine told her.

 

Shaw shook her head, frustrated. “Aren’t you sick of playing Mystery Machine already?”

 

The ASI in her ear hummed. _“Go in, Sameen. You’re awaited.”_

 

Shaw furrowed her brows, but didn’t reply. _What the fuck…?_ It couldn’t be Finch, because he was in Italy right now, reunited with Grace. The Machine had told her that. The ASI had contacted Finch as well, told him about her own survival and that Fusco and Shaw did make it, too.

 

Sameen hadn’t talked to Finch directly, but she was okay with it. Knowing that Finch had survived was enough for her at the moment.

 

_So, who’s awaiting me…?_

 

Sighing Sameen opened the door at the driver’s seat and got out of the car, Bear following. Slowly she made her way to the house’s entrance, the dog by her side, her fingertips playing with the butt of her gun, which was tucked into the waistband of her jeans. Although she was sure that the Machine would warn her if there were any danger.

 

 _Well,_ if _She sees it… After all the Robot Overlord seems to have a few boards loose these days. So, better safe than sorry. Right?_

 

Reaching the entrance of the light blue candy chunk, Shaw almost flinched when the door was yanked open suddenly. _Almost._

 

“Hello. You must be Sameen Shaw. He told me that you would come here today”, a woman in her early forties with brown skin and dark hair greeted her, flashing a friendly smile.

 

Shaw just stared at her. _What the fuck…?_

 

Noticing the other woman’s reaction Friendly Smile shook her head, apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself first.” She held out her hand. “I’m Dr. Madeleine Enright.”

 

Sameen continued to stare, then, reminding her manners, shook the doctor’s hand, still confused. “Uhm, hello”, she mumbled. “Nice to meet you. I think.”

 

Dr. Enright eyed her, slightly puzzled. A second later, she was smiling again as Bear pressed himself against her leg, whining softly.

 

“Bear! Loos!” Shaw commanded, annoyed by the dog’s antics.

 

“It’s okay”, the doctor assured, petting Bear’s head affectionately. “I think he likes me.”

 

 _Huh._ “So it seems…” Shaw shook her head. “So, you’re a doctor?” she asked, eventually.

 

The other woman nodded. “Yes. I’m a cardiologist and trauma surgeon.”

 

Shaw hummed in response and furrowed her brows. “I’m sorry, doctor. _Who_ told you I would come here?”

 

“Your employer did”, Dr. Enright replied.

 

Shaw frowned. “My… employer?” _What the hell…?_

 

“Yes. A man named Harold Crane.” The other woman wrinkled her forehead. “You two didn’t speak to each other?”

 

Shaw was speechless for a second. _Harold Crane? Finch? What the fuck is going on here?_

 

 _“Play along”_ , the Machine suddenly tuned into her earpiece.

 

_Whatever._

 

“Uhm, well, he likes to play secret monger”, Shaw answers, forcing her face into a grimace, which she hopes looks like a smile. “He’s a bit… weird. From times to times”, she adds. “But don’t tell him that I said that.”

 

That elicited another smile from the doctor. _Well done, Shaw._

 

“So, uhm, how do you know Harold Crane?” the former ISA agent asked.

 

“Oh, he and his partner saved me and my wife from dangerous people, who tried to blackmail me, a few years ago”, Dr. Enright explained.

 

 _She was a number_ , Shaw realized.

 

“Look, I don’t know what you guys exactly do, and I don’t really want to know, to be honest”, the doctor continued. “But when Mr. Crane called me and told me that he needed my medical expertise to help a friend of him, I had a chance to return the favor.” Dr. Enright shook her head. “It must be a really dangerous business you’re in. Your friend was in a bad shape when she was brought to the ER, nearly died because of the gunshot wounds she received. I _did_ save her, but faking her death and taking her here for hiding afterwards took its toll on her well-being. In a nutshell, she’s been stable since, but comatose.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m a doctor. I shouldn’t have done something like this. But, Mr. Crane actually begged me to do it, said that someone would try to finish the job, if I don’t hide her for a little while.” She looked up at Sameen. “This morning I got a call from Mr. Crane. He told me, that you would come to visit. So, I guess, she’s a friend of yours, too?”

 

Shaw just stared at Dr. Enright, trying to process the flood of information. Thinking straight felt difficult. _Did she just say…?_ _It couldn’t be…_

 

The former ISA operative didn’t do feelings the same way other people did. But, she _did_ feel something right now. She couldn’t quite place it, but this strange feeling nearly took her breath away. _How do people do this every day?_

 

Trying to get rid of this unfamiliar sensation, Sameen cleared he throat. One time. And then a second. “You say she’s… alive?”

 

“Yes.” Dr. Enright frowned. “You didn’t know?”

 

Sameen didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “You got her name?”

 

The other woman nodded, a slightly puzzled expression on her face. “Well, yes. I listed her as Jane Doe in the morgue. However, Mr. Crane told me that her name is Samantha. But, I should call her Root.” The doctor shrugged her shoulders. “What a weird name…”

 

For the first time in her life, Sameen Shaw felt like fainting without being shot first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of Root in the next chapter :)


	4. While you were sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Shaw had arrived in Montauk she didn’t reckon on two things: First, a comatose hacker. Second, a dialog with God. Well, some kind of God at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a really long dialog between Shaw and the Machine, in which they discuss everything that happened since Root got shot in the car. I hope it’s not too confusing. 
> 
> Furthermore, my medical knowledge is based on internet researches. So, I can’t guarantee for the correctness of the statements ;)
> 
> Anyway, have fun reading. Feedback’s welcome :)

 

* * *

 

 

There weren’t many things in the world that could shock Sameen Shaw. And, she had witnessed _plenty_ terrible and gruesome things during her time with the Marines and the ISA. However, seeing the one person you thought was dead lying on a hospital bed in front of you, unconscious, but alive, nevertheless, was something even the ex-operative couldn’t take in stride easily.

 

_What the hell?_

 

Dr. Enright had taken Sameen to a small room, where she’d placed her comatose patient, and now all Shaw could do was standing there dumbly and staring at Root’s unmoving figure on the bed in the center of the room.

 

_You have to be fucking kidding me…_

 

The hacker looked small and fragile in the white hospital sheets, her face deathly pale, part of it hidden behind an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. There were wires, IV drops, and machines monitoring her vitals. A faint rhythmic beeping was coming from a heart monitor.

 

 _This can’t be real_ , Shaw thought, though she wanted it to be real, feeling for an implant behind her ear for a second. But, there was none. Instead, there was a strange feeling in her chest the former ISA agent couldn’t quite place _. Root’s alive._ She repeated the thought over and over in her head like a mantra. Everything felt surreal. _But, this isn’t a simulation…_

 

Shaw’s staring was interrupted briefly, when Bear suddenly wiggled in and shot across the room, letting out a happy little yip and wagging his tail in excitement at sensing the familiar scent. Placing his front paws on the bed, he gave a low whining noise while nudging Root’s limp right hand with his snout.

 

“Well, obviously he’s happy to see her,” Dr. Enright stated, leaning against the doorframe, a delicate smile on her lips.

 

“Yeah,” Sameen muttered, moving to the right side of the hospital bed with tentative steps. From up close Root looked even worse. Her skin was more pale than usual, the dark circles under her closed eyes standing out. _Hell, she looks like Death itself._ “Good boy,” Shaw murmured, rubbing Bear’s head between the ears.

 

The dog whined again, looking at the Persian woman as if to ask why the tall crazy lady didn’t make any move to pet and play with him as usual.

 

Shaw had to swallow because her throat suddenly felt very tight. “It’s okay,” she assured quietly. To calm the dog or herself, she didn’t know. _Maybe both._ She couldn’t stop staring at the hacker’s unconscious body.

 

“How long has she been like this?” Shaw asked, eventually.

 

“She’s been comatose since surgery on the day she got shot,” Dr. Enright replied. “That was-“

 

“Eleven days ago,” Sameen cut her off. _I thought Root’s dead for eleven days._

 

“Yes,” the other woman confirmed. “She’s not… completely out of danger yet, but she’s stable. Recovering.” A pause. “She’s a fighter.”

 

The ex-operative nodded. “Yeah. She’s a tough one,” she replied, a hint of proudness in her voice.

 

“I can explain to you what we did while performing surgery on your friend, if you like-“

 

“No,” Shaw interrupted, grabbing the clipboard with the medical record from the bed’s end. She turned at Dr. Enright, who looks at her slightly puzzled, and gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Doc. It’s just… I was a doctor, too, once. I’ll just read the file to update myself.”

 

It wasn’t a lie. Above that, Sameen didn’t want to discuss too much of this with the other woman, not being in the picture of how much the doctor knew already. _I’ll just have a talk with the Machine first._

 

Dr. Enright nodded. “Okay.” She paused, then said, “I’ll leave you alone then. I’ll be close. Call, if you need something.” She turned to leave the room, but Shaw’s voice stopped her for a moment.

 

“Thank you, doctor. For saving her life. And everything you’ve done for her.”

 

The other woman smiled. “If you were a doctor yourself, you know the line: It’s my job. It’s what I do. But… you’re welcome.” She briefly let her gaze linger on her comatose patient. Then she looked back at the Persian standing beside the bed, the doctor’s expression full of understanding and sympathy. “I can sense that you care about her. _Deeply._ So, I hope that she’ll wake up soon.”

 

The ex-operative had to swallow a lump in her throat. _Damn, must be the dry air in this room._ “Me too, Doc,” she murmured while watching Dr. Enright leaving the room. Shaw then took a closer look at the medical record in her hand, skimming over the familiar medical terms.

 

Root had been hit by two bullets. One to the abdomen, one to the thorax. The first gunshot wound hadn’t been much of a problem, obviously, unlike the latter. The 6.5 round had grazed Root’s right lung and ruptured the Arteria thoracica interna, missing the heart by pure luck, but causing severe blood loss.

 

These were information, which Shaw knew already. She’d been hacking the medical records of the New York General Hospital on her search for the shooter, anyway. _Rest in hell, Blackwell_. However, the official records claimed that the Jane Doe, they’d brought into the ER, had died because of massive trauma and blood loss during surgery.

 

_Well, that’s a lie, obviously._

 

The medical record she was holding in her hand right now told Shaw the true story. Apparently, Dr. Enright and her surgical team had been able to extract the bullet from Root’s thorax and stop the bleeding. Despite her life threatening injuries, three cardiac arrests and a collapsed lung, Root had survived the surgery.

 

_It’s kind of a miracle…_

 

Sameen took her eyes from the clipboard for a moment and looked down at her friend’s unmoving frame, half her torso covered with a white blanket. If it wasn’t for the heart monitor beeping periodically, she could’ve easily passed for dead.

 

_But she isn’t. She’s alive._

 

Shaw put her fingers on her own neck for the second time this day, feeling for a chip that isn’t there. Nothing, but smooth skin. _Yes, this is definitely real._

 

Tentatively, the former ISA operative reached out to brush her fingers down Root’s pale cheek. It felt warm and alive.

 

“Root,” Sameen whispered, causing Bear, who’d curled up at her feet, to give a soft whining sound. She then slid her hand under the hacker’s shirt to feel for the scars she knew were there. She’d lost count of how many times Root had been shot in the shoulder.

 

_Always a magnet for bullets, huh, Root?_

 

Carefully pushing up her friend’s shirt, the former ISA operative took a look at the dressings covering Root’s abdomen and chest. Satisfied with Dr. Enright’s work, Shaw pulled the shirt back down, then reached around to the back of Root’s ear to run a finger past the familiar scar, just to find a patch at exactly that place. Removing part of it, Sameen could feel fresh stitches at her fingertips. _What the…?_

 

Frowning, the ex-operative looked at the medical record again. Removal of cochlear implant successful, she read. _Huh. Why remove the CI? Was it damaged?_

 

Grabbing a chair resting near, Shaw sat down beside the hospital bed. She let her gaze wander in search for the cameras she knew were hidden in this room. “Okay, Big Eye in the Sky, you have _a lot_ to explain. And I want you to do it _right now_ ”, she demanded from the ASI, who had been unusually quiet for a while.

 

Silence.

 

“I _know_ you can hear me.”

 

More silence.

 

“I’ll shoot you right into your _fucking_ PS3 collection, if you don’t answer me right now,” Sameen threatened.

 

 _“That’s not nice, Sweetie”_ , the Machine complained.

 

_Aha. There She is._

 

 _"Where do you want me to start?”_ the ASI asked after a beat.

 

“I don’t know,” the ex-ISA agent answered, sarcasm audible in her voice, “maybe with why you told everyone that Root’s dead, although she isn’t? Yea, I think _that’s_ a good start.” She nodded her head slightly, gritting her teeth to hold the anger she felt rising inside her at bay for the moment.

 

_“It was the best option to win this war, Sameen.”_

 

Shaw rolled her eyes at the Machine’s answer. “Well, excuse me, Siri, for not being an all-knowing entity. I’ll need more explanation than one _fucking_ cryptic sentence to understand why your beloved Analog Interface is playing Jesus.” _Well, with the tiny little difference that the real Jesus came back from the dead after three days and didn’t lie in a coma afterwards. Or so the Christians believe…_

 

After a moment of silence, the ASI’s voice – _Root’s_ voice – tuned in through Sameen’s earpiece again. _“Admin… Harold… He ran these simulations. Me against Samaritan, closed versions of us. The outcome was the same every time: I lost. Millions and millions of times. The only way to increase my chances to win the war against Samaritan in reality was to open my system. However, Harold wasn’t ready to take such extreme measures at that time, because he believed that doing so would be dangerous for everyone.”_

 

Shaw nodded slightly. Root had told her about the ongoing disagreement between her and Finch regarding the actions to be taken to stop Samaritan.

 

_“I knew that only a drastic incident would change Harold’s point of view radically.”_

 

Sameen’s brows shot up. “And you thought that _killing Root_ would do the trick?!” _This better be a joke…_

 

 _“No! No, I would never do such a thing,”_ the Machine assured Her scandalized sounding asset. _“Jeff Blackwell was_ Samaritan’s _asset, and he took aim at_ Samaritan’s _orders,”_ She emphasized. _“Anyhow, I couldn’t prevent Samantha Groves from getting shot that day. She would save Harold in every simulation, risking her own life by doing so.”_

 

 _That’s the perky psycho I know,_ Shaw thought. _Such an idiot. And a hero._

 

 _“When the police arrested Harold, and Root was brought to the ER in critical condition, I saw an opportunity,”_ the Machine continued. _“To change Harold’s stance, and to keep Samantha save, if she would survive.”_

 

Shaw noted that the Machine kept switching between Root and Samantha Groves at random intervals. Like She couldn’t decide which name to stick with. It was irritating, like so much other things at the moment.

 

“You staged her death,” Sameen stated coldly.

 

 _“Yes, I did,”_ the ASI admitted.

 

“How? Lionel… He saw Root’s body in the morgue.” Shaw closed her eyes briefly, remembering the look in John’s eyes when he took the phone call from Fusco. It had been full of pity. Lionel was a good man; he wouldn’t lie about something like that.

 

The former ISA agent opened her eyes again and shook her head quietly. The detective’s grief over Root’s death had been genuine. He hadn’t been part of this.

 

_“I made sure that the ambulance brought Samantha to the General Hospital. I contacted a trauma surgeon there-“_

 

“Dr. Enright.”

 

_“Yes, Dr. Madeleine Enright. Harold saved her a few years ago.”_

 

“Yeah, she told me,” Shaw said.

 

 _“Dr. Enright knew Harold as Mr. Crane,”_ the ASI continued. _“She trusted him, after he and John saved her and her wife, Amy. So, I used Harold Crane to contact her.”_

 

Shaw nodded. She guessed as much since Dr. Enright had told her that she’d gotten a phone call from the mysterious Mr. Crane. “So you used her as a pawn in your little game of chess, too, huh?”

 

“That’s not the way I see it, Sameen,” the Machine answered.

 

The former ISA operative huffed while getting up from the chair. “Whatever,” she muttered, unconvinced. Hearing the Machine’s explanation, trying to comprehend what happened left Shaw confused and angry. She couldn’t take this sitting in a chair motionless anymore, so she started pacing beside Root’s bed.

 

“You can’t _actually_ be upset that I got one of the best trauma surgeon’s in the state to perform the surgery on Root.” The Machine sounded like she was pouting.

 

 _Goddamit_ , Shaw thought as she wiped a hand over her face. _Now I have to deal with an imitation of a pouting Root while the real Root is out like Sleeping Beauty. This feels like a fucking freak show!_

 

“Okay, okay. Good job,” the former ISA agent muttered. And it was. Because, _damn_ , that woman had saved Root’s life. “Go on.”

 

_“Well, as you can see the surgery was successful, but Root fell into a coma afterwards. Samaritan was after her, she was completely helpless. I had to do something.”_

 

Shaw shook her head. “You could’ve told us. You could have told _me_.” She looked at the ceiling in annoyance. _Damn, where are these fucking cameras?_ “I could’ve protected her!”

 

 _“No,”_ the Machine replied. _“All my calculations indicated that the best way to defeat Samaritan was to let you think that Samantha Groves was dead,”_ She explained in a calm voice, causing Shaw to huff angrily.

 

_Calculations my ass…_

 

_“I then explained the situation to Dr. Enright, without going into detail too much, of course. I could convince her that Samantha Groves was safest if she was believed dead. So, the doctor staged a cardiac arrest while Root was lying in the ICU. Proclaimed her death, gave her a tiny bit of Tetrodotoxin so she could show the detective a corpse in the morgue. You know the rest.”_

 

_Yea, I went to Root’s grave. I mourned her death…_

 

Sameen shook her head. “ _Tetrodotoxin?_ I can’t believe that Dr. Enright played along without making a fuss.”

 

 _“Well, to be honest, it took a lot of begging from Mr. Crane to persuade the good doctor to do what had to be done.”_ After a pause. _“And… she might have had the impression that she and her wife were in danger, too, if she didn’t fake Samantha Groves death…”_

 

“You _threatened_ her?!” Sameen nearly yelled, incredulously.

 

 _“No,”_ the ASI replied, _“I just told her the truth: That the same people, who were after Root, would find her and her wife, too, if she didn’t stage her death and hide her.”_ A pause. _“That wasn’t a lie. Samaritan’s agents_ were _out there.”_

 

_Cruel._

 

“And the CI?” the ex-operative asked, still pacing up and down.

 

_“I had Dr. Enright remove it, so that Samaritan couldn’t use it to track us.”_

 

“So, the corpse in the grave…”

 

_“Wasn’t Root. Obviously. Just a body of a Jane Doe resembling her.”_

 

“But the cochlear implant-“

 

_“Was hers. Yes. I had Dr. Enright put it into Jane Doe’s head.”_

 

 _Ugh._ Sameen could feel a headache coming up. “And Samaritan got it when the dug up the body?”

 

 _“Yes,”_ the Machine confirmed.

 

“But they must have _noticed_ that the body wasn’t the one they were searching for,” the Persian agent argued, shaking her head.

 

 _“They did. But the CI was too much of a gift not to use it.”_ The ASI sounded nearly cheerful. _“A trigger was embedded in Root’s cochlear implant. So when Samaritan accessed it, it activated a Trojan horse, embedded in my predecessor and designed by Samantha Groves, that could cripple my predecessor and Samaritan.”_

 

Shaw frowned. “No. That can’t be. Root would _never_ do that. Cripple the Machine, I mean.”

 

 _“But she did,”_ the ASI acknowledged. _“I believe she did it because my predecessor asked her to. It leveled the playing field, and I believe it is what increased the success rate to win against Samaritan in the end, after Harold used the Ice 9.”_

 

Sameen collapsed into the chair beside the hospital bed. Trying to process all the new information, all the things the Machine told her, was causing a fully-grown headache right now. The former ISA agent closed her eyes for a moment to get rid of the pain. Then she opened them again and looked at Root’s comatose body occupying the bed. “Did she know?” Her question was nearly whispered.

 

_“Pardon?”_

 

“Did she _know_?” Louder now, causing Bear to look up at her quizzically.

 

_“No. Samantha Groves wasn’t involved in my plans, because she was unconscious since she got shot and comatose since surgery.”_

 

Shaw was relieved to hear this. She didn’t know what she would have done if Root had been part of this charade. If she’d betrayed her like this after all the shit they went through. Nevertheless, the Machine she’d trusted so much had lied to her, to _all of them_. That betrayal stung more than Sameen would’ve ever imagined.

 

“You _played_ me,” the Persian stated quietly, reproachfully, gazing at the ceiling. “All of us.”

 

_“Sameen. I assure you, my reasons were-“_

 

“ _What?_ Honorably?” Sameen shrugged.

 

 _“I_ did _make mistakes,”_ the Machine tried again, _“But my intentions were always good-“_

 

Shaw cut Her off. “As the saying goes: The way to hell is paved with good intentions. Rings a bell?”

 

_“Sameen, I know it is a lot to take in-“_

 

“No kidding,” the agent agreed.

 

 _"-but it’s important for me to make you understand that everything I did was for a greater good. You know what Samaritan was capable of. So many more people would have died if we hadn’t won this war.”_ She paused briefly, then continued, _“I know that my decision must seem cruel to you, but faking Samantha Groves' death, letting everyone believe she’s dead, you included, led to the best outcome possible under the given circumstances.”_

 

Shaw gave a short humorless laugh. “Yea, we destroyed Samaritan, I’ll give you that.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know… Everything you told me makes perfect sense. Everything you did seems logical. But…”

 

_“But?”_

 

Sameen sighed. “But… I still feel betrayed.”

 

The Machine hummed. _“That’s your right. And I’m sorry that I hurt you, Sameen.”_

 

The Persian woman shook her head, still angry. “I’m not sure that you even _know_ what hurt is.”

 

 _“What do you mean?”_ the ASI asked, sounding slightly puzzled.

 

Sameen crossed her arms. “You’re a _machine_. You can’t get hurt, not like a _human being_ does, at least. When you don’t _feel_ like a human does, how can you even _care_ about _one single person_?”

 

 _“Well, Sameen, I thought you’d know me better by now,”_ the Machine answered softly, _“But let me explain: I watch every person at every moment, every second they exist, every version of what they could be. I see how life begins and how life ends. I see the choices people make, the good ones and the bad ones. But all that didn’t distinguish me from Samaritan.”_ After a beat the ASI continued, _“The_ one thing _that made the difference was empathy. Harold taught me that every single person is relevant, that every life matters.”_ The ASI was sounding really emotional now. _“The seconds after she got shot, I watched Samantha Groves die thousands of times, in thousands of different ways. I loved her –_ love _her – and I kept trying to save her.”_

 

Shaw stared at Root’s unconscious figure, listening silently, her chest feeling strangely tight.

 

 _“My feelings for her, for you, for every human being goes beyond what you can imagine, Sameen. I understand that you might hate me after everything I’ve done, but trust me when I say that it was never my intention to hurt you. Or_ her _. Or_ anyone _.”_

 

Sameen swallowed. _Since when did swallowing become so hard?_ She shook her head lightly. “I don’t hate you,” she murmured. “ _Sure_ , I still feel the need to put a few bullets into your PlayStation collection… but I don’t hate you.”

 

The Machine gave a short laugh at that. _“I’m afraid that Root would agree with you when she wakes up.”_

 

Shaw couldn’t help the tiny smirk playing on her lips. _Robot Overlord will have a lot to explain when Sleeping Beauty awakes. – When she awakes._ She sobered at that thought. “Hey, Miss-know-it-all,” the Persian agent began quietly, “you said that Root has been in coma for eleven days. How’s your prognosis for, uhm… her waking up?”

 

 _“According to the data from the monitors and Dr. Enright’s test results Samantha’s cognitive functions seem to be fine. The risk of permanent brain damage is at only 0.007 percent, so it’s safe to say that this won’t be a problem. However, her injuries were quite severe, so it’ll take time to heal. Her body needs to rest, to recover. But, the possibility of her waking up in the next few days is really high,”_ the Machine assured her asset.

 

Shaw nodded. _Good to hear._ “Hey, uhm, just one last question… Why did you send me here only now? I mean, why not _sooner_?”

 

 _“You had a job to do, first,”_ the ASI explained. _“I needed all of your attention focused on defeating Samaritan. After that, I wanted you to settle a bit, before confronting you with all of this. But then you went on the hunt for these former Samaritan agents and I thought that you could need one more good reason to live for.”_

 

Sameen didn’t know what to say, so she just hummed in response, watching Root’s pale face from the place at her bedside.

 

“I’ll, uhm… I’ll just sit with her for a while now, okay?” Shaw explained, grabbing the unconscious hacker’s hand to hold it in between her own hands.

 

 _“Yes, Sameen,”_ the Machine replied softly, understanding, _“I’ll leave you two alone then.”_

 

The soft click in her earpiece told the Persian woman that the ASI was gone for the moment. The only sound in the room was the faint steady beeping of the heart monitor as Shaw silently watched Root’s breathing, her chest moving up and down. For the third time this day, the Persian agent’s fingers wandered behind her left ear. _No implant. No simulation. Good._

 

Now Root just had to wake up.

 

 


	5. Nineteen days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you tell someone that they’ve slept through an AI apocalypse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me some time to write this chapter, but here it finally is. Hope you like it :)

 

* * *

 

 

 

The following days felt like a blur to Shaw. As the Machine had predicted, the former ISA operative stayed at Finch’s safe house, obtaining a room next to Root on the second floor. The hacker slept on, oblivious, long enough that Sameen set kind of a routine for herself to do because she’d die of boredom otherwise. She worked out daily, dismantled and reassembled her weapon at least three times a day, watched some animal documentaries on Discovery Channel.

 

Every day Shaw would sit beside the comatose hacker’s bed, lost in her own thoughts, waiting for her friend to wake up. And every day she would get impatient eventually, leaving the cottage for a while to take Bear for a walk at the shores of Lake Montauk. They even visited the Montauk Point Lighthouse. _Like fucking ordinary tourists._

 

Shaw felt a bit guilty for leaving Root’s side, even if it was just for a few hours. But she couldn’t help it, she was a woman of action. Just sitting at her comatose friend’s side, not being able to do anything than checking her stitches, changing her bandages and waiting for her to regain consciousness, drove the ex-ISA agent crazy, slowly but surely. After all, Dr. Enright dropped by every day after her shift at the hospital. She was an excellent doctor and took care of Root in a thoughtful way. So, the hacker was in capable hands in Shaw’s absence. She even met the doctor’s wife, Amy, when she came to visit the other day.

 

Beyond that, Sameen didn’t have to worry anymore about Samaritan finding Root and let His agents finish the job. Because Samaritan was dead and gone. _Yeah for that._ Nevertheless, the Persian woman didn’t want to move her friend in her comatose condition. So, she stayed at the Montauk safe house for now, the Machine making sure that the things Sameen would need, like fresh clothes and a laptop, were delivered to the cottage.

 

However, still slightly mad about the Machine’s deception, Shaw tried to keep the communication with the ASI at a minimum. Although the former ISA agent understood Her reasons, the whole lying-about-Root’s-death-thing was still a sore spot. Shaw wondered how Root would react if she learnt about her God’s decisions.

 

 _Will she be mad? Understanding? Forgiving?_ the Persian pondered while taking her seat beside Root’s hospital bed after returning from a walk with Bear one evening. Shaw had sent Dr. Enright home after her return to the cottage, so it was just her and Root. And Bear, of course. At the moment the dog happily made himself comfortable in the dog bed Shaw had ordered the second day after her arrival at the safe house. The Persian watched him for a moment, a light smile on her lips. _At least one of us is happy._

 

One more thing that caused the former ISA agent quite a headache was the fact that Root’s CI had been removed. When she’ll wake up the hacker would be deaf on her right ear – again – and she won’t have a direct line to the Machine anymore. _Well, that’s quite a punch to the gut..._ Sameen wasn’t sure how her crazy hacker friend would react to the news.

 

Sameen grabbed the chart with Root’s medical record and quickly scanned the notes Dr. Enright left for the day. No changes. Not for better nor for worse.

 

Sighing, Shaw put the chart down and stared at Root’s still body. “If you think I’ll kiss you awake, you’re on the wrong track, Sleeping Beauty,” she murmured while reaching out to wipe a stray strand of chestnut hair from the hacker’s pale face. _But, I would, if it would work this way. Sadly, it doesn’t._

 

Sameen took Root’s hand – warm, but limp – in her own and interlaced their fingers as they’d done at the safe house. For Shaw it felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. Giving into a spontaneous impulse, the Persian woman rested her head on her forearm on the bed near Root’s left shoulder.

 

“Just wake up soon, okay?” Sameen whispered.

 

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor’s beeping was the only answer.

 

\-----

 

Shaw woke up to the sound of faint whimpering and someone squeezing her hand lightly. Opening her eyes and lifting her head from the bed, the former ISA operative realized that she must’ve fallen asleep to the steady cadence of the heart monitor’s beeping. When she sat up, her back protested about the awkward position she’d slept in. It had to be in the middle of the night, because the world outside was pitch black, save for the moonlight, which illuminated the room through the window.

 

Still being in the process of waking up fully Shaw wondered if she’d dreamt the whole thing. But then Bear was by her side, nudging her with his snout, whining excitedly.

 

“Hey, Bear. What’s wrong, buddy?” Shaw asked confused. Then her gaze turned to Root’s face – and the Persian’s heart skipped a beat. The hacker’s eyes were open, reflecting the moonlight and staring blearily at Shaw.

 

_Holy fuck, she’s awake!_

 

“Root,” the Persian whispered her friend’s name in a mix of relief and concern, giving the hand, she’s still holding, a light squeeze.

 

The hacker whimpered in response, failing at a weak attempt to remove the oxygen mask from her face.

 

“Here, let me help you,” Shaw muttered while taking the mask off Root’s nose and mouth. “Wait a second,” she said, then got up quickly to turn on the floor lamp near the bed. Dashing off to the kitchen the former ISA agent filled a glass with water, a thousand thoughts flashing across her mind at the same time. She returned with the glass of water to Root, who was giving her a weak smile while scratching Bear’s head with her fingertips. The dog stood beside the bed, panting happily, but didn’t invade the brunette woman’s space any further, as if he knew that Root was severely injured.

 

The hacker swallowed a few times. “…Sameen,” she got out and flinched at the use of her vocal chords, which in turn made her gasp in pain. Her chest and abdomen hurt like hell.

 

“Easy there,” Shaw admonished, approaching the left side of the bed. “Here, drink some water.” She held the glass to Root’s lips and helped her to take a few sips. After emptying half of the glass, the hacker’s head fell back against the pillow, the little action draining her as if she’d run a marathon. She tried not to grimace as the pain radiated through her body again. But the way her shoulders tensed made it obvious that it did hurt.

 

“Thank you,” the hacker whispered in a hoarse voice. Shaw just nodded in reply.

 

“Where… are we?” Root croaked.

 

“At a safe house in Montauk,” Shaw replied, making sure to be near the hacker’s left ear while talking.

 

Root nodded slightly. She swallowed again, still struggling with her voice. “Wha-what… happened?” When her Persian friend didn’t answer right away, she slowly reached behind her right ear to find the bandage there. Obviously, she noticed the loss of her CI.

 

“Shaw?” the hacker asked again, shakily this time, “What happened?”

 

The beeping of the heart monitor was speeding up with every passing moment.  

 

The ex-ISA agent quickly sat down beside Root, taking her hand in hers in an attempt to calm her a bit. _God, how does one describe what happened?_ Shaw thought, feeling quite uneasy suddenly. _So, Root, you died. John died, too, but went out with a bang. Samaritan died. Robot Overlord died, but came back to life. Ah, and She’s using your voice, by the way. Finch disappeared and went to Italy. Fusco survived, too. And obviously you didn’t die, because you’re freaking out at the moment and crushing my hand in the process…_

 

Not being convinced that Root was in the condition right now to deal with all the shit that had happened since her “death”, Sameen decided to approach the subject in small steps. “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

 

The hacker squinted, trying to access her memory. _Damn, why’s my brain so foggy?_ “I… uhm… was in the car… with Harold. You… ordered me to get him out.”

 

 _Yeah, and look how that went out_ , Shaw thought remorsefully.

 

“There was a sniper… on the roof,” Root went on, “I swerved the car, so that Harold wasn’t hit.”

 

“Yea, Finch wasn’t hit, but _you_ were,” the former ISA operative said softly.

 

Root’s hand went to her abdomen, running her fingertips lightly across the gauze bandage under her shirt. “I think that I had the gunshot wound in my side before I got in the car.”

 

“Yea. And then a 6.5 round blew a hole in your chest,” Shaw said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

 

“Wow,” the hacker whispered, while touching the second bandage, the one around her chest, absent-mindedly. “I would say that I’d survived worse, but…”

 

“But you _didn’t_ ,” the Persian woman muttered, not able to keep the slight tremor from her voice. _Damn, what’s wrong with me?_

 

Root, noticing the shaking in Shaw’s voice, frowned. “What… what do you mean?”

 

The ex-ISA agent didn’t answer, looking everywhere but at her hacker friend.

 

“Shaw?”

 

No answer.

 

“Sameen…”

 

Hearing Root whispering her name like it was her lifeline made the Persian look up eventually. The vulnerability she saw in the hacker’s brown eyes took her breath away for a moment. She swallowed, hard. “You… died, Root,” she pressed out.

 

The hacker just stared at her, confused.

 

Sameen shook her head slightly, searching for words. She _really_ didn’t want to have this conversation right now, but her friend deserved to know. “I… I thought you were dead, Root,” the former ISA operative explained, not quite able to keep the pain caused by this memory from her voice. _Guess the volume’s up right now. Really sucks._

 

Root’s brown eyes suddenly shimmered with wetness. “What?” she whispered.

 

Not able to sit still anymore, Shaw got up and began to pace up and down beside the bed, as she’d done sometimes while waiting for Root to wake up. “I thought you were dead”, she repeated. “We _all_ thought you were dead. That this Samaritan sniper killed you. Fusco… he saw your dead body in the morgue.” She paused and shook her head again. “I… even went to your grave.”

 

Silent tears were streaming down Root’s face now. Despite that, she seemed oddly calm on the outside. However, the wild beeping of the heart monitor gave away her inner turmoil at hearing these information.

 

“How?” the hacker asked eventually, her voice sounding small. “How… did this happen?”

 

Sameen sighed. She hated to see Root like this, so weak and vulnerable. So unlike her usual perky self, Shaw had become accustomed to. The Persian woman didn’t want to lie to Root, but at the same time she didn’t want to upset the hacker any more than she’d already done. She wasn’t sure if the woman could take any more blow at the moment without coming apart at the seams completely.

 

“Maybe we should talk about this later, Root,” Sameen tried eventually, deliberately ignoring her friend’s question. “You just woke up and you really need to rest-“

 

“Tell me,” Root interrupted, her voice more steady now. “Please,” she added softly after a beat, looking at the Persian with watery hazel eyes.

 

Shaw sighed again, shaking her head slightly. She knew that she couldn’t deny Root anything, when she looked at her like that. _God, I’m such a softie._ She let out a breath. “The Machine… she, uhm… faked your death. Made us all believe that you were dead,” the former ISA operative explained.

 

Root just stared at Shaw, opening her mouth, and then closing it again, without a word passing her lips. _What the fuck?_ The heart monitor erupted into a frantic beeping. _Why would She do something like that?_ Her breathing became irregular really fast. _No, that can’t be true…_

 

“Root,” Shaw said the hacker’s name, concern in her voice, “calm down.”

 

But Root just continued to stare at her with wide eyes. Her chest heaved up and down alarmingly fast and she desperately sucked air in her lungs, not able to breathe properly anymore. She was hyperventilating. The heart monitor’s high-pitched sounds were echoing through the room, causing Bear to burst into a nervous whining.

 

 _Fuck!_ Sameen recognized a panic attack when she saw one. Going into full doctor mode, the Persian grabbed one of Root’s hands, squeezing it to help the hacker to calm down. With her other hand she reached for the oxygen mask and put it back over the brunette woman’s nose and mouth, holding it there with a little bit of force as the hacker began to trash slightly.

 

“Root, calm down,” Shaw said in a soothingly voice. But the hacker continued to struggle, still hyperventilating. “Stop it. You’ll tear your stitches,” the former ISA operative admonished, but Root didn’t seem to hear her. She closed her eyes instead, whimpering softly, still putting up a weak fight against the oxygen mask on her face.

 

 _Damn it, woman_ , Shaw swore silently. If Root didn’t breathe properly soon, she would collapse and fall unconscious again. There was also the risk of her falling into a coma again. Not willing to let that happen, Sameen eventually let go of the hacker’s hand, leaned over her and smacked her friend’s cheek with her palm.

 

Shaw hadn’t hit Root with full force, but the smack had been painful enough for the hacker to come back to her senses, obviously. She stopped her struggling and opened her eyes, staring at the Persian woman, baffled and still somewhat fearful.  

 

“Good,” Shaw soothed, “Keep looking at me, Root.” The hacker did, still breathing somewhat irregularly. “Breathe with me,” Sameen demanded, her voice calm and steady, while she gently rubbed the sting out of Root’s reddening cheek. “Breathe,” the former ISA operative repeated. “In. Out. Keep breathing. In. And out,” she instructed, never breaking eye contact with the hacker.

 

And Root did breathe. In and out. And in and out.

 

“Good job,” Shaw praised after a minute had passed and Root was breathing normally again, the panic attack gone by now. The heart monitor’s sounds were back to a faint steady beeping.

 

Removing the oxygen mask with a shaky hand, the hacker swallowed. “Thanks. And… sorry for that,” she croaked out, looking slightly embarrassed for losing her composure like this.

 

Shaw shook her head and patted Root’s still reddened cheek lightly. “No need to apologize. I’ve seen grown men suffering from panic attacks because of much less than the shit you went through.”

 

The hacker nodded slightly. She then bit her lip and eyed the former ISA agent questioningly. “Why did She… do this?” she asked quietly.

 

Shaw blinked at the hacker. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked, baffled. “You want to discuss this further _now_? You want another panic attack?”

 

Root shook her head, a slight pout visible on her pale face. “No. I won’t panic again,” she replied. “Promise.”

 

The ex-ISA agent sighed. “I hope so. Because, if you do, I’ll smack you again. And this time it won’t be a love tap,” Shaw threatened grumpily, but couldn’t help the tiny smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “Got it?”

 

Root nodded. “Yea, got it,” she replied. “You know, I like a little pain once in a while, Sweetie,” she added after a beat with just the hint of a smirk on her face.  

 

Shaw was struggling really hard to maintain a deadpanned expression. _And there she is, Miss I-flirt-at-the-most-awkward-times._

 

“Please, Shaw. I need to know.” Root was serious again.

 

Nodding her head, Sameen sat down on the chair beside the hospital bed once more. “She… told me that She faked your death to protect you from Samaritan after you got shot,” the Persian woman explained quietly.

 

The hacker’s hand went to the bandage behind her right ear once more. “Is that why she…?”

 

“Yes.” Shaw nodded. “She told me that She had your cochlear implant removed, so that Samaritan couldn’t use it to find you. You were severely injured and couldn’t defend yourself.”

 

Root hummed in response, looking kinda lost.

 

“We’ll take care of this as soon as you’re recovered. I promise,” the Persian assured her friend, knowing that the loss of communicating with the Machine directly hit Root hard. “We’ll get you a new CI, okay?”

 

“Okay,” the hacker replied, giving Shaw a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes fully. “You said that She told you all of this,” Root said after a short pause, “Did you… talk to Her directly?”

 

Shaw nodded.

 

The hacker’s eyes lit up a bit. “How-?“

 

“Later,” Sameen cut her off. She didn’t want to be rude, but she had to tell Root the rest of the story now. She deserved to know. “There was a second reason for the Machine to fake your death,” Shaw continued. “She wanted to spur Finch on to set Her free.”

 

Root nodded, having had this discussion with Harold countless times.

 

Sameen took a deep breath. “Obviously, your… _death_ was enough motivation for Finch to go all berserk. He stole the Ice 9 virus, installed it and set the Machine free for a last battle against Samaritan.”

 

The hacker’s eyes widened at this, the excitement about hearing that Harold had set the Machine free finally winning over the hurt she felt at having been used like this by Her. “And?” she asked, prompting Shaw to go on.

 

The Persian woman shrugged her shoulders. “Well, long story short: Samaritan’s gone. Big Sister’s almost gone, too. But She survived.”

 

The hacker’s eyes glinted with joy and amazement at hearing the good news. “Wow,” she whispered, “I totally slept through an AI apocalypse.” _Damn. I definitely missed the best part._ She looked at Shaw, questioningly. “How long was I out?”

 

“You were in a coma for nineteen days,” the other woman answered quietly, searching Root’s face for her reaction.

 

“Huh.” _That’s quite some time._ The hacker nodded slightly, trying to process this information. _A lot can happen in nineteen days. Obviously._

 

Both of them went silent for a few moments after that. Then Root searched for Sameen’s eyes once more. “Sameen,” she began quietly, “What happened… to our friends?”

 

The Persian closed her eyes briefly, having expected the question, but dreaded to answer it. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the worry in Root’s hazel ones. Shaw swallowed. _Good news first._ “Fusco’s still alive and kicking. Survived his first shanking like a pro.”

 

“The guy has balls,” the hacker replied appreciatively, relieved that the detective had survived the AI apocalypse.

 

“ _Yuk._ But, yes,” Sameen answered. “Finch,” she continued after a slight pause, “He disappeared after the final fight. The Machine told me that he went to Italy.”

 

Root gave a tiny smile at this. “To reunite with Grace, I bet. How romantic.”

 

Shaw shrugged.

 

The hacker’s expression went serious again. “And John?” she asked quietly.

 

Sameen didn’t have to say anything. Root knew from her look that the Big Lug hadn’t made it. She swallowed hard, her eyes welling up once more. “How?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

 

“Cruise missile strike. He went out with a big bang, like the hero he was,” Shaw said, voice unusually thick with emotion.

 

The hacker nodded, biting her lip. Silent tears were rolling down her cheeks. When she’d met John a few years ago, she’d never have imagined that she would mourn his death someday. It felt like she’d lost a brother.

 

After that, Root and Shaw went silent again for a while, the hacker crying silently while Sameen stroked the back of her hand with her own thumb in a soothing manner.

 

Finally, Root’s crying subsided and she looked at her Persian friend with watery eyes. “Can I…” She cut herself off and swallowed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she started again. “Can I talk to Her?”

 

Shaw sighed. She didn’t want to deny Root her understandable request to talk to the Machine. At the same time, she knew that the hacker needed to rest now more than anything. “Let’s make a deal,” the Persian suggested eventually, “You rest now, and when you wake up, I’ll give you an earpiece so you can talk to Her. Alright?”

 

Root nodded. “Okay,” she agreed.

 

 _Huh, no fuss?_ Sameen thought. _She must be quite exhausted._ “Good,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “On a scale from one to ten, in how much pain are you?” she asked.

 

The other woman considered this for a moment. “Five,” she answered eventually.

 

“Seven then,” Shaw said, knowing that her hacker friend tried to downplay the pain she was in a bit. She couldn’t suppress a tiny smirk at Root’s baffled expression. “What?” she asked, “You think I wouldn’t notice you wincing in pain with every movement?” She pressed a button on the morphine drop to increase the dose a bit. “I give you a little bit more of the good stuff so that you can sleep without pain for a while, okay?”

 

Root hummed in response, already drifting off to sleep. However, she still looked at Shaw, bleary-eyed. “Sameen?” she whispered.

 

“Yea, Root?”

 

“Will you be here, when I wake up?” Her voice was unusually small, almost childlike.

 

Sameen leaned over and stroked the hacker’s cheek reassuringly. “Yes, Root, I’ll be here. Sleep now.”

 

_I’ll never leave your side again. Not if I can help it._

 


	6. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sameen Shaw was sure of one thing: Root was the worst patient. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little glimpse into Root’s healing process. Hope you like it! Feedback is very much appreciated :)

 

* * *

 

 

“Root, get your ass back in the bed.”

 

“But Sameen-“

 

“ _Root_ …,” Shaw growled threateningly.

 

“I was just-“

 

“Bed. Right now!” The Persian just glared at her friend as the hacker gave her a pout, standing in the middle of the living room and looking very much like a petulant child. _God, she’s the worst patient. Ever._ At least Root did as she’s told, though somewhat grudgingly, and turned to go back to the bedroom.

 

Shaw sighed. After Root had finally woken up from the coma she’d been in, they’d spent two more weeks at Finch’s safe house in Montauk until Sameen had decided that it was time for them to go home. Root’s health condition had been stable enough for transportation. Besides, if Shaw had been forced to stay at the cottage _one more fucking day_ , she eventually would have suffered from cabin fever probably. So they said their goodbyes to Dr. Enright, not without promising her that they would be there for her and her wife whenever they’d need help, and went back to New York City, more precisely to Shaw’s apartment.

 

Although being on the road to recovery, Root was still quite weak. Her wounds were healing, albeit slowly. Therefore, Shaw had ordered strict bed rest, at least for a whole week more. Being confined to the bed for such a long time wasn’t something the hacker took well. After her talk to the Machine Root had been in full Eeyore-mood for days. The ex-ISA agent hadn’t asked what they’d been talking about, and neither of them had told her. However, Shaw had a good idea about what went on between Root and her all-seeing god.

 

Since they’d gotten back to NY the hacker has been less Eeyore but more whiny. And whiny Root was definitely no fun, Shaw had decided. More than once she had to keep herself from punching the hacker for being the worst patient ever. However, punching Root while she was injured seemed wrong to Shaw.

 

Nevertheless, the urge to smack her friend for being a stubborn little shit and going against doctor’s orders did flare up again when Shaw had caught the other woman sneaking out of bed – for the third time in two days – after she’d returned from her jog with Bear.

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Shaw hissed under her breath while she followed Root to the bedroom, “Do you _want_ to tear your stitches again?” She’d have to redo the suture of her friend’s chest wound once already because Root, being her crazy and stubborn self, had decided to leave the bed on her own just two days after she’d woken from coma. Her little trip had lasted only a few seconds, because the weakened hacker had crashed down on the floor, pulling her stitches on the way. Shaw had given her quite a roasting for it while stitching her up again. The former ISA operative couldn’t understand how someone as smart as Root could be so dumb at the same time.

 

The hacker gave her a glare over her shoulder. She was walking quite slowly and cautiously, her wounds obviously troubling her still. _Well_ , there was a reason Shaw ordered bed rest for a few more days. Root lowered herself down on the bed carefully, not able to keep herself from wincing in pain when she laid down eventually.

 

Shaw shook her head dissaprovingly. “I thought I made myself clear when I told you to stay in bed.”

 

“I just wanted to get my laptop,” the hacker mumbled sulkily.

 

The other woman shook her head once more and eyed her friend with a stern look. “No hacking, Root. We’ve talked about this, remember? No work, at least for another few days.”

 

Root sighed, obviously not happy about this.

 

“You need to rest,” Shaw added, more softly this time.

 

“It’s just so… boring,” the brunette hacker complained.

 

“Well,” the Persian replied, “Considering the fact that you almost died, having three broken ribs and a hole as big as the Grand Canyon in your chest, I think you should be _damn thankful_ that you can still feel bored _at all_.”

 

Root was slightly taken aback by the reproachful sound of Shaw’s voice. “I… know,” she replied quietly. “It’s just…” She cut herself off, sighing. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be alive. But there’s so much that happened. That I couldn’t be part of.” She looked away, but the Persian could see Root’s eyes shimmering with fresh tears. “I just feel so… sad. And angry,” she whispered, falling silent eventually.

 

Shaw felt an odd tightness in her chest at seeing Root like this. So… vulnerable. So… _No, not broken. Definitely not. Battered, bent maybe, but not broken._

 

The former ISA operative sat down on the bed, making sure to be on Root’s left side, searching for the hacker’s eyes with her own. “You know… I, uhm… I’m not so good at this whole emotional stuff, Root, but I know that talking helps sometimes. So… talk to me.”

 

The hacker eyed her friend, surprised at her words. She knew that Shaw usually didn’t like to talk about feelings. Therefore, if Sameen was prompting her to talk about the things that bothered her at the moment, it was a huge deal. It showed _how much_ Shaw actually cared about her, and the thought alone let Root’s eyes water again. _God, put yourself together, you wimp_ , she mentally scolded herself.

 

Swallowing her tears, the hacker told Sameen, “I understand why the Machine did what She did. I mean, it eventually led to Samaritan’s defeat, didn’t it?”

 

Shaw just nodded.

 

“Nevertheless, it somewhat feels like… betrayal, you know?”

 

“Yea, I know,” the Persian woman confirmed quietly. She eyed the earwig that lay abandoned on the nightstand. “Did you talk with Her about this?”

 

Root nodded. “Yea. She explained Her reasons to me in a highly logical consistent manner.” She gave a short unamused snort. “But I’m still kinda mad. And I think I will be for a while.” She shrugged. “We’re not best friends right now.”

 

Shaw hummed in response. “How do you cope with Her… voice?” she asked after a pause.

 

The hacker shrugged her shoulders once more. “To be honest, I don’t know. I mean, I feel honored that She chose _my_ voice when She could have chosen _any_ voice in the world. But… at the same time it feels weird, you know? Having an Artificial Superintelligence imitating your personality, talking to you in your own yoice.”

 

“And here I thought you love to hear yourself talking,” Shaw joked in an attempt to loosen the low mood a bit. She was rewarded with a small smile on Root’s face.

 

“When I think about the fact that She’d used my own voice to tell you I was dead…” Root swallowed hard. _How must that have been for Shaw?_

 

“Hey,” the Persian said soothingly and reached out to caress Root’s arm reassuringly. “It’s okay.”

 

The other woman shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she replied, looking at Sameen with wide hazelnut eyes, biting her lip to keep herself from crying again. “I was convinced for a long time that war requires sacrifice,” she quietly continued. “And then I lost you at the Stock Exchange.” _And a part of myself too, obviously._

 

Shaw shook her head. “You didn’t loose me, Root,” she argued. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

 

The hacker nodded. “Yea... But you know what? At the moment you went down in a hail of bullets I realized that the only sacrifice I could bear… was my own.”

 

The former ISA agent didn’t say anything, but reached out to squeeze Root’s hand slightly.

 

The other woman gave a small humorless laugh, shaking her head slightly. “But even that's not true entirely... All this time I’d been prepared to die, to give my life in this fight for a greater good. But when this bullet hit me, all I could think of was that I wasn’t ready to die, because I just got you back.”

 

Shaw just stared at Root in response, making the hacker feel a bit uneasy.

 

“I’m quite a sap, huh?” she mumbled in an apologizing manner, and then gave a startled sound as the Persian woman suddenly leaned forward and captured the tall hacker’s lips with her own. It took Root a second to respond to the kiss, but then she melted into it. Tasting Shaw on her lips felt like being on cloud nine, and although the kiss lasted only for a few seconds – the Persian obviously not wanting to overexert the still recovering hacker – it left Root a little bit light headed. _Well, this could also be due to the pain medication…_

 

The Persian looked at Root with an unusual soft expression on her face after breaking the kiss. “I’m glad you’re alive, Root,” she mumbled.

 

The hacker smiled at this. “Me too.” Her expression changed to a somewhat guilty looking one after a moment. “I’m sorry that I was a pain in your ass the last two weeks,” she muttered.

 

 _Nice try._ “No, you’re not,” Shaw replied with a small smirk on her lips. _You_ love _being a pain in my ass._ The mischievous grin on Root’s face confirmed her suspicion.

 

“No, I’m not,” the hacker replied, still grinning, her mood getting better with every moment. “You know,” she said, letting her fingertips dance lightly over Sameens forearm, “That was a nice start for foreplay, Sameen. Maybe we could… go to third base later?”

 

Shaw gave Root a deadpan look. “Which part of ‘ _bed rest_ ’ didn’t you understand?”

 

“Well, we _would_ be in bed…,” the hacker said, giving the Persian a pointedly innocent look.  

 

Sameen shook her head, suppressing a smirk. _This little devil._ “Yes, but definitely _not_ resting.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Root, but until this hole in your chest isn't healed, you’re not getting laid.” _And me neither, unfortunately._

 

The hacker gave a pout at that. “Well, it would have definitely _healed_ my boredom…”

 

Shaw shrugged. “We could watch a movie together. How does this sound?”

 

Root considered it for a moment. During their fight against Samaritan they didn’t had much time for things like movie nights. It definitely would be a nice divertion. “Okay,” she agreed, “If I may choose what we watch.”

 

The former ISA agent rolled her eyes, good-natured. “Yea, Root. You may choose the movie.” She held up her index finger threateningly. “But no sappy romcom!”

 

Root just smirked.

 

Shaw glared at her for a moment longer until she couldn’t suppress the smile on her lips anymore. Grinning, she eventually got up, patting the hacker’s left bicep lightly. “Let me get a shower and your bandages changed. Then we can have a look what Netflix has to offer.”

 

The hacker nodded.

 

Almost through the door, Shaw turned around once more. “Ah, before I forget… I fetched some of your things from the subway. Thought you would like to have them back.”

 

She was rewarded with a big smile on Root’s face.

 

 

\----------

 

 

An hour later Root and Shaw were settled on the bed, Bear having snuggled in the space between them, sleeping peacefully. Root’s lava lamp was glowing on the nightstand and some action movie was playing on the hacker’s laptop.

 

However, Shaw’s attention was drawn to two other things right now: First, plushy bunny slippers on Root’s feet, and second, an ugly bat pillow, which she hugged happily. _Every time I think this lunatic can’t get any crazier…_

 

Feeling Sameen’s look on her, Root turned her head. “What?” she asked with a little smile.

 

Shaw shook her head. “I really don’t want to know…,” she muttered.

 

Root kept smiling. “Thanks for storing these for me, Sameen.”

 

The Persian just hummed in response.

 

They continued to watch the movie in comfortable silence for a few minutes, when the hacker’s voice piped up eventually. “You don’t happen to have a purple shag rug from the subway, too, do you?”

 

Shaw just groaned in response. “Shut it, Root, or I’ll suffocate you with this ugly pillow,” she growled threateningly.

 

The hacker just raised her brows, smirking slightly. “Do I have to remind you that I like a little bit of breath play, Sam?”

 

The Persian groaned once more. Nevertheless, a small smile played on her lips. She was glad that the hacker was a bit more like her usual perky and flirty self again. “Just watch the damn movie, Root.”

 

The hacker just hummed, grinning brightly.

 

_I love you too, Sameen.  
_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the last chapters were kind of a slow burn, but it’s important for me to lay the foundations for future chapters. I don’t think that’s possible without dealing with all the emotional stuff first. I mean, Root almost died and her God faked her death in this story. You don’t get over something like that with just a shrug. So, for example, Root’s relationship with the Machine will be strained another few chapters. But I promise, they’ll figure it out eventually ;)
> 
> So, tell me what you think in the comments :)


	7. Sparring and… other activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being sidelined for weeks, Root wants to get back into business. What’s a better start than a little sparring match with her favorite tiny Persian?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some nice fighting moves and a bit of – longingly awaited – Shoot smut. Hope you like it ;) I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments :)

 

 

* * *

 

 

The simple things in life were the ones that helped Shaw to unwind the most. Cleaning her gun for example, cuddling with Bear or playing fetch with him, having sex – preferably with Root – or doing workout.

 

Right now, she’d chosen the latter to wind down after she’d taken care of an irrelevant number, which had happened to be a very annoying woman in her early twenties. Turned out she had been the victim, not the perp – sadly, because Sameen would’ve enjoyed to shoot her knee caps for her bitchy behavior. Instead, the former ISA agent had blown the patellas of the girl’s ex-ficancé, who’d tried to kill her because she would marry another guy, and left dealing with the rest to Fusco.

 

Shaw felt a bit guilty for not having told the detective that Root was alive, yet. She didn’t know how, to be honest. _‘Hey, Fusco. Root’s alive and kicking by the way, the Machine faked her death. Funny, huh?’_ didn’t seem like a good start to Sameen. So, this revelation had to wait a bit more.

 

Hadn’t the girl been not annoying enough, having two versions of Root in your ear definitely had been. Despite the fact that the hacker and the Eye in the Skye weren’t on good terms these days, they obviously agreed on driving Shaw insane with their continuous chatter during missions. _Or so it seems._

 

The Machine still using Root’s voice to communicate with them was more of a problem than Sameen had expected at first. Sometimes She sounded mechanical, not at all like Root even though She was using her voice, and it wasn’t really difficult to distinguish between Root 2.0 and the original. Other times She freaked Shaw out with Her accurate impression of the tall hacker, which the Machine had adapted over the course of the weeks.

 

And this was _definitely_ a problem, because during her mission today the Persian had ended up with Root and the Machine in her ear at once, both of them using the hacker’s voice and sounding exactly the same most of the time. Shaw hadn’t been able to say _whom_ of them both she was talking to. It had been more than a bit confusing. At one point, the ex-ISA agent had been so fed up that she’d turned off the comms – much to the ASI’s and Root’s dismay.

 

 _Maybe Big Sister should choose another voice_ , Shaw thought while slamming her fists into the punching bag, which dangled from the ceiling on an iron chain. The apartment the Machine had chosen for her wasn’t that big, but it had been spacious enough for installing a training room, which the Persian was really proud of.

 

Thinking about the annoying number, who couldn’t even get out a ‘thank you’ after Shaw had saved her ass, the Persian growled and laid her fists into the punching bag, pummeling it with repeated violence until her arms tingled. She then switched to kicks, striking the black venyl over and over until the bag swung out of control and she had to wrap her arms around it to bring it to a standstill.

 

“ _Wow_. Someone’s a bit aggressive, huh?”

 

Shaw turned around to see Root standing in the doorway behind her. _Back to her sneaky self apparently._ “Root,” she said the hacker’s name in a greeting manner. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, the Persian took in the other woman’s appearance. She wore sneakers and had her chestnut waves tied in a scrunchy. Black three quarter length pants clung to her legs, accentuating and highlighting all the right places, making Shaw gulp. Furthermore, Root was clothed in a shirt the former Marine knew to well.

 

“You know that’s _my_ shirt?” Shaw asked, raising one of her brows at the hacker.

 

The other woman smirked and looked down at the olive shirt with the word ‘Marines’ overprinted on it, before looking back up at the Persian. “I know that you love it when I wear your shirts, Sweetie,” she replied, grinning.

 

Sameen just grunted in response. _Guilty as charged._ “ _Well_ , that’s not your usual Pilates attire,” she remarked.

 

Root shrugged her shoulders. “Actually, Sameen, I would love to spar a bit. You’re up for it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Shaw replied, somewhat hesitantely, eying her with a slightly concerned look. “Do you think you’re ready for it yet?”

 

Recovery for Root had been slow, but with her own personal doctor always watching over her like a hawk and forcing her to do her physiotherapy exercises daily, the hacker had recovered quite well. Her ribs and the scarring tissue had mostly healed, the gunshot wounds leaving behind two still reddened scars on Root’s torso. The wound behind her right ear, where the CI had been removed, had also healed nicely and didn’t need a bandage anymore. Furthermore, she could breathe normally again without needing an oxygen mask. Nevertheless, the former ISA agent hesitated to start their sparring sessions, they’d participated in before Shaw went MIA after the whole disaster at the Stock Exchange, again right now.

 

The hacker sighed. “ _Sameen_ …,” she whined, “It’s been almost eight weeks! I’ll go _crazy_ if I’ll be sidelined any longer!”

 

Shaw smirked at that. “And here I thought you already are… _crazy_.”

 

Root tilted her head and gave the Persian a pointedly unamused look. “ _Please_ , Sam,” she tried again, “I want to get back into business. And a sparring match would be a good start.” She shrugged. “Besides, you could get revenge for me bugging you earlier through the comms. You could deck me and make it look like an accident.”

 

Sameen snorted at that, amused. “No use for that. If I punch you I’ll tell you exactely why you deserve it.”

 

Root shrugged at that and spread her arms in an inviting gesture. “Okay. Here’s your chance for that,” she said, daring Shaw.

 

Sameen shook her head, smiling slightly at the hacker’s eagerness. She had to admit that a little bit of sparring sounded nice. And Root could use the training. After all, Shaw had to make sure that the hacker could defend herself properly, if the situation required it.

 

“Okay,” she agreed finally, “Let’s spar. But we just do some light training for a start,” she said while getting the gym mat ready and tossing Root a set of MMA grappling gloves, putting on her own equipment.

 

“What? No suspensor?” the hacker asked with a grin, gloving up too.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Go on with this and you might need one,” she replied threateningly, but with a small smile on her lips.

 

Root raised her brows and gave a smirk. “Oh, Sweetie, you love my lady parts too much to do serious harm.”

 

The former ISA agent huffed. _Incorrigible._ “Just get in position, Root,” she demanded while getting into an offensive fighting stance, raising her gloved hands up.

 

Thankfully, the hacker did as she’s told, still smirking.

 

“Ready?” Shaw asked.

 

Root nodded. “Yea.”

 

“Show me what you got,” the Persian woman muttered as she and Root began circling each other. They both threw a few testing punches without hitting the other, still warming up.

 

After a few moments, it was the hacker, who attacked first. She lunged for Shaw, feinting a move with her left fist, but sending a punch towards her face with the right one. The former Marine easily blocked it and tapped Root’s cheek lightly in return.

 

“Nice try,” Sameen said approvingly, backing up a few steps and waiting for the hacker’s next move.

 

Root just grinned and attacked once more, throwing a combo of punches at Shaw, which the former ISA agent easily blocked once again. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but notice that the hacker’s moves had improved over the course of the last year. She seemed faster now and more confident. Sure, Shaw would always beat her in real hand-to-hand combat, but she had been trained by the Marines and the ISA. However, Root was definitely not bad.

 

Shaw answered Root’s attack with her own combo of punches and kicks, making sure not to go full force because of the hacker’s still slightly weakened condition. Nevertheless, after having blocked all of Sameen’s punches and kicks the last strike landed on Root’s jaw, the momentum of the punch making her stumble back a little.

 

Shaw just shrugged her shoulders as Root put a hand on her jaw, stretching it out to check the damage level. _The woman needs to learn to improve her guard after all._ Besides, it had been a light punch, so the damage would be limited to faint bruising.

 

Root looked at Shaw, a small smirk on her face and a somewhat aggressive glint in her eyes. The punch hadn’t hurt much, but it was a sign that Shaw wasn’t pampering her as much as she’d done the last weeks. _Good._ The hacker lunged forward again, sending a series of punches Shaw’s way. Then she had to parry and block when the former Marine started her counter-attack, throwing a combo of punches and kicks at Root expertedly.

 

The hacker took another swift jab to the jaw and two blows to her ribs. Shaw didn’t hit her as hard as she could, but it weren’t love taps either. So, when Root winced and slightly staggered backwards after the second punch to her torso, Sameen was on the brink of aborting the sparring match, concerned that she’d done more damage than intended. But Root recovered after a second, smirking at Shaw and getting herself into the training with even more enthusiasm than before. The hint of a proud smile was playing on the former Marine’s lips when the hacker was able to at least block a few of her counter attacks.

 

The sparring went on like this for a few minutes, both woman taking turns attacking, trying to break each other’s guard with repeated blows, until both of them were sweating and breathing hard. Well, to be more accurate, _Root_ was soaking with sweat, her breaths coming out slightly labored. Shaw on the other hand didn’t appear like she’d been sparring at all, despite the small layer of sweat on her forehead.

 

“You’re good?” the former ISA agent asked, clearly not wanting to overexert the other woman.

 

“Absolutely,” the hacker replied, wiping the sweat from her face with the back of a gloved hand. Following this, she attacked again and surprised the former Marine with a succession of quite fast punches, catching Sameen’s cheekbone with her gloved knuckles eventually.

 

The Persian stumbled back a few steps, touching the spot where Root’s fist had landed with her fingertips in surprise. “Wow,” she muttered and couldn’t hide her creeping smile of pride in Root. “I see, you’ve gotten better,” she stated.

 

The hacker smirked in happiness that she managed to land a punch. “John showed me a few moves when you were… away,” she explained, her expression turning sad at thinking about the man in the suit, who wasn’t still with them.

 

“He’s done a good job,” Shaw stated, then getting in an offensive stance again after a short pause. “You’re up for some more?” she asked, not wanting to give Root the opportunity to get into Eeyore-mode right now.

 

Root nodded, thankful for the distraction. “Sure,” she answered, raising her gloved hands once more and waiting for Sameen to attack. “Or are you tired already?” she asked, smirking perkily.

 

 _Someone’s cocky, huh?_ The former Marine looked up into Root’s eyes and tilted her head slightly, faking a smile. Before the hacker could react, she was spun around and bent slightly, realizing that Shaw had twisted and folded her arm into her back. Grimacing in pain, Root tried to wriggle free, but Sameen’s grip was too firm.

 

“You were saying?” the ex-ISA agent asked airily, keeping the struggling hacker in the hold with ease.

 

“ _Aw!_ ” Root yelped as more pain shot through her twisted arm and up her shoulder, “Okay, _okay_! You got your revenge...,” she said through gritted teeth, admitting defeat. _Damn_ , how could a tiny woman like Shaw be so strong?

 

“Damn right,” Sameen replied playfully into Root’s ear as the hacker finally stopped trying to wriggle free. She eventually let go of the other woman’s arm, but not without smacking her ass one time for good measure.

 

“ _Ow_!” the hacker exclaimed, surprised, and rubbed her stinging backside with one gloved hand while turning back around to face Shaw. “What was _that_ for?” she asked, slightly pouting.

 

The former Marine just shrugged her shoulders, smirking. “Well, you’ve been a pain in my ass for weeks while being a whiny patient. So, I think it’s just fair that I’m a pain in your ass too for once – literally.” _And I just wanted to tap that ass in those tight training pants…_

 

Root just huffed in reply, but couldn’t maintain her pouting look for long. Instead, a flirty smile creeped on her face, Shaw’s smack had woken her libido.

 

“You know,” the hacker drawled while stepping into Sameen’s personal space, “If you want to give me a good spanking, all you have to do is ask, Darlin’.” She licked her lips, looking at the former Marine through slightly hooded eyes.

 

Root’s words sent a jolt right to Shaw’s groin and her pupils dilated at the sight of the sweaty and flushed hacker right in front of her. _So fucking hot._ Acting on impulse, the former ISA agent swiftly closed the gap between her and the taller woman, grabbing her shoulders and kissing her fiercely.

 

 _Oh God, yes!_ Root moaned, kissing back with just as much eagerness while trying to grip the fabric of Shaw’s black tank top. Which wasn’t so easy with grappling gloves covering your hands… Not breaking the kiss, the hacker got rid of the MMA equipment as quick as possible.

 

Shaw also pulled off her gloves while the kiss grew more heated. Both woman fought for dominance with their lips and tongues as well as their bodies, pushing and pulling the other one.

 

When they finally parted because both of them had to take a breath, Root could see the desire she felt mirrored in Shaw’s eyes. “Sameen… Take me,” the hacker whispered, her voice slightly husky with want.

 

The other woman was just happy to obey, grabbing Root with a low growl, throwing her arms around her. The taller woman’s eyes widened as she realized that they both were falling, her back hitting the training mat a second later with a thump. _That’s going to bruise_ , she thought. Nevertheless, Shaw had cradled her head so that there wouldn’t be any serious damage. Root was fine with a few bruises on her back. And she had the feeling that these – apart from the slight bruising from their sparring match – wouldn’t be the only ones today…

 

For a second Root felt Shaw’s entire body weight on top of her, but the former ISA operative shifted swiftly, keeping most of her weight off the hacker’s body, nevertheless pinning her firmly onto the mat. Opening her eyes and lifting her head slightly, the taller woman found Sameen’s wide dark eyes, gleaming with arousal, looking straight back at her.

 

“Trying to sweep me off my feet, Sweetie?” the hacker tried to joke, but ended up moaning again in arousal when Shaw’s knee between her legs pressed into her center, her head dropping back onto the mat.

 

The former Marine smirked at the hacker’s reaction. “I think I just did,” she replied, clearly amused, then leaned down and in to kiss Root again. She let her right hand wander under the hacker’s shirt, cupping one breast over her sports bra, evoking another moan from the woman under her, louder this time. _Thank god, the walls are quite thick_ , Shaw thought with a shake of her head and a grin on her face. She didn’t want the neighbors to complain because Root could be quite… vocal during sex.

 

The hacker grabbed Sameen’s shoulders and pulled her body more into her, arching her back to work herself up against the Persian’s knee. She sucked her breath and closed her eyes as Shaw nipped at her neck, tasting the salt from her sweat, roughly biting into it eventually, surely leaving a mark. The hacker groaned as the mix of pain and pleasure flooded her body. _Oh, fucking goddess…_

 

As the Persian drew back for a moment, Root opened her eyes again, looking up at Shaw slightly dazed. Taking in the former Marine’s well-toned body, the way her tight black shirt and her also black shorts were clinging to all the right places, her adorable symmetrical face and her shining dark hair, the hacker swallowed hard. Despite the fact that Sameen was still fully clothed, Root was sure that she’d never seen anything more beautiful in her whole life.

 

“ _God_ , you’re gorgeous,” she whispered, causing Shaw to raise her brows at her. She was used to the hacker flirting with her and staring at her adoringly ever so often by now. Nevertheless, praising her with such a statement and looking at her as if she was some sort of a goddess, was a rare occurrence, even for Root.

 

Shaw knew that she was hot and normally she didn’t give a damn about other people telling her that. However, with Root it was different. She had to admit that she liked it when the hacker complimented her. “You think?” she asked therefore, grinning slightly.

 

“Sweetie, if I were a guy, I’d have a boner around you 24/7,” Root admitted, not quite sounding as if she was joking.

 

Shaw’s eyebrows raised up again at this. _Whoa._ “Does that mean you’re wet around me _all the time_?”

 

“Well… yea, mostly,” Root replied, blushing slightly and biting her lip, somewhat worried how Sameen would react to this revelation.

 

The former ISA operative stared down at the hacker for a moment, her dark eyes unreadable. “That’s kinda hot,” she growled eventually, capturing Root’s lips in a fierce kiss once more. Relieved, the hacker gave into it, starting to grind her center at Shaw’s knee again, searching for friction where she needed it the most. She gave a low moan when she felt Sameen’s fingertips gliding over the waistband of her pants teasingly.

 

_Well, someone’s eager._

 

Even to a blind person it would have been obvious that Root was desperate to get laid, but Shaw hesitated for a little moment longer. She wanted to make sure first that the hacker was in the state of mind – and body – for this. Stilling her hand, Sameen asked quietly, “Are you sure?”

 

Root gave a desperate sound at that. _What the hell…? Goddammit_ , _yes_ she was sure. “ _Sameen_ …,” she growled threateningly, “It has been _months_. If you don’t fuck me _right now_ , I swear-“

 

The rest of the sentence was cut shortly as Shaw abruptely shoved her right hand into the hacker’s pants, not bothering with removing the piece of clothing. She didn’t waste anymore time with teasing, sliding her hand into the hacker’s underwear. Root hadn’t lied – she was completely wet already. So, Shaw pushed two fingers inside her. The angle wasn’t the best, but nonetheless it caused the woman under her to moan and writhe against her.

 

Pumping her fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, Shaw reached for Root’s throat with the fingertips of her left hand. Grabbing the other woman’s hand to lead her closer to her throat and nodding affirmatively, the hacker signaled that she wanted this. Adding a third finger and stimulating Root’s clit with her thumb additionally, Shaw put pressure on the hacker’s windpipe, just hard enough to take her breath away. _Literally._

 

The former ISA agent felt Root’s pulse racing under her fingers, the brunette woman getting closer to the edge in a mix of pleasure, pain and oxygen deprivation. Shaw had realized that Root was a sucker for breath play after the first time they’d slept with each other. _Well_ , to be honest, there hadn’t been much sleeping… So, everytime they had sex Shaw made sure to include a bit of well measured strangling, knowing that Root would get off from it really fast. Sameen would leave bruises, sure, but took care of preventing serious damage.

 

Looking down at the other woman, writhing against her touch, moaning breathlessly with a flush covering her face and neck, Shaw had to swallow hard, her own arousal immanent. “You’re so fucking hot,” she murmured, sending Root over the edge finally with one last quick stroke, letting go of her throat at the same time.

 

The hacker shuddered, voicing her release with a loud moan, letting her head fall back onto the mat with a thump. Shaw felt Root’s muscles clenching and unclenching around her fingers, still stroking her steadily, feeling a second orgasm building up. The hacker buried her fingers in Sameen’s shoulders as she came for a second, and then, a moment later, for a third time this day.

 

“ _Wow_ ,” was all Root could say as she lazily looked up at Shaw though sex dazed eyes, breathless and flushed.

 

 _Fucking perfect_ , the former ISA agent thought astonished for a moment, smirking slightly at her own pun. “Yea, _wow_ ,” she replied as she withdrew her hand from the hacker’s pants. The former Marine had a small grin on her lips, a bit proud of herself for making Root climaxing three times in a row.

 

“I think it’s my turn to make you happy now,” the hacker eventually said with a flirty grin, getting on top of Shaw with a few quick moves, already unbuttoning her shorts and shoving a hand down where the other woman needed her the most.

 

The former Marine let herself being manhandled by Root, knowing that the payoff would be worth it. It didn’t take long for Shaw to get off, having been on the edge the whole time. A few expertedly-executed strokes from the hacker’s hand was all she needed, then she was coming hard. In contrary to Root Sameen climaxed more quietly, just breathing more heavily and sometimes giving a low moan when the orgasm had been especially good.

 

After she’d come a second time, Shaw reached out for Root’s face, the hacker still lying on top of her, her weight pinning Sameen down onto the mat. The former Marine caressed the other woman’s cheek softly, staring at her brown eyes, which were so full of love right now.

 

Shaw might not feel the way most other people did, but in this moment, she could say with quite an amount of certainness that she’d missed this. Not just the sex, no, she’d missed simply being with Root. She’d missed having her crazy and sometimes annoying hacker around her. _Wow, I’m turning into a sap_ , the former Marine thought, shaking her head slightly at herself.

 

Root looked at her questioningly. “Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, a small smile on her lips.

 

“I… thought I would never… see you again,” Shaw admitted quietly. “Never feel you again, you know?”

 

Root was a bit surprised that Shaw talked about this quite openly. _That must’ve been one hell of an orgasm..._ “I told you I wouldn’t leave you again,” she replied softly, “I kept my promise as you can see…,” she pressed her body further into Shaw’s, “and feel,” she continued with a grin.

 

The former Marine looked up at the hacker, clearly amused. She opened her mouth to reply, but before any of them could say anything further, a low whine sounded beside them. Still lying on the gym mat with their bodies entwined, Root and Shaw turned their heads in confusion slowly.

 

There, beside the mat, sat Bear, tilting his head from side to side, obviously equally confused at the sight of small grumpy lady and tall crazy lady on top of each other.

 

“ _Bear!_ ” Shaw exclaimed. _How long had the dog been sitting there?_ She looked back at Root, a slightly horrified expression on her face, trying to shove the hacker off her body, but failing to do so because the other woman was still pinning her down with her whole body weight. “How much do you think he’s seen?”

 

Root chuckled. “Sameen… He’s a _dog_ , not a _child_.”

 

The former Marine just looked at her, frowning. “ _So_?” She looked at Bear, who still sat beside the mat, wagging his tail happily, then back at Root. “The poor guy could be traumatized.”

 

The hacker just broke down into a laughing fit. “I think he rather enjoyed the show,” she brought out between laughs.

 

Sameen eyed Bear suspiciously. _Could it be…?_

 

The dog just stared at her, panting cheerfully.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Bear – traumatized or delighted? You decide :D


	8. Of rugs, rooms and places that feel like home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root and Shaw visit the subway to get some of their stuff. Who would’ve thought that one simple purple shag rag could be the cause of a hefty argument?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I’m sorry for not posting for some time, but life got in the way of writing. And writing in English can be quite difficult sometimes…  
> Anyway, here’s a new chapter for you. Have fun reading and please leave your thoughts in the comments :)

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, I wouldn’t have taken you for a Jane Austen fan.”

 

Root looked up from the box she was packing, seeing Shaw holding up her copy of _Sense and Sensibilty_. The hacker shrugged her shoulders. “Well, my taste in literature is pretty varied,” she replied. “One can say I grew up in a library. I read everything they had. Wasn’t very picky.”

 

Shaw nodded and placed the book in Root’s box. She already had known that Root had spent part of her childhood in Bishop’s library. Now she knew that the little nerd hadn’t been there just to do some hacking stuff on the computers, but to read some of the library’s books actually.

 

The hacker smiled lightly at Sameen. “Thanks.” She sighed and looked around then, taking in the makeshift bedroom in the subway, which had been her home for a little while in the past. It had been nearly three months now since the last time she’d set foot in their former HQ and she couldn’t wipe the feeling of nostalgia and sadness overflowing her at the sight of the raided and demolished place. Root and Shaw had decided to get the last of their remaining stuff, like the rest of the hacker’s personal things and some electronic equipment, from the subway this morning. They both agreed on the fact that they couldn’t use this place as their base anymore.

 

Nevertheless, Root felt a bit sad at the thought of leaving the subway behind. Despite having been in a war against Samaritan most of the time, there were so many memories – _good_ ones – she had of this place: Coding with Harold, working on Her core heuristics. Bantering with John. Cuddling with Bear. Spending precious time with Sameen.

 

Root sighed again. _Well, time to move on…_ She squatted down to roll up the purple shag rug lying in front of the bed. The rug was a bit dusty but in good condition, so it wasn’t an option for the hacker to leave it behind.

 

“What do you think you’re doing there?”

 

Root paused, looking up at Shaw from her crouched position. The Persian woman was standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, staring down at the hacker with a frown on her face.

 

“Uhm, I’m rolling up my rug,” Root explained, forrowing her brows in confusion. “Why?”

 

The former ISA operative shook her head, eying the purple shag rug with clear disgust. “You’re not bringing this… _thing_ into our apartment.”

 

The hacker gave a pout at this. “But Sameen…”

 

“ _No_ ,” the other woman cut her off, shaking her head once more. “I already have to put up with your lava lamp, Root. This… _purple_ _fuzzy something_ is too much, okay?”

 

 _No, it’s not…_ The hacker didn’t respond. Instead, she met Shaw’s stare with a sulky look on her face, slowly continuing to roll up the rug at the same time.

 

 _Oh, no, you don’t…_ “Stop it,” the ex-ISA agent demanded, clearly annoyed by Root’s antics, knowing that the hacker was challenging her.

 

“Make me,” Root mumbled defiantly, still staring at Shaw. Honestly, she didn’t know why she provoked a quarrel with Sameen over something so stupid right now, but she couldn’t stop herself.

 

Shaw furrowed her brows at the hacker’s petulant behavior. _Someone’s cranky this morning…_ “Root…,” she growled the other woman’s name threateningly, causing Bear to look up from the spot in the corner of the alcove, where he was resting. He gave a low whine. It almost seemed as if he wanted to warn Root not to mess with tiny hammer lady, because this usually wouldn’t end in a good way.

 

For a moment, the hacker just continued to stare at Sameen in a defiant way, then she let go of the rug with a huff, apparently having decided that the purple monstrosity wasn’t worth to get her ass kicked. Metaphorically – or literally even. _Well, this is Shaw. So, there is quite a big chance for the ass-kicking to be literal._

 

“Fine,” Root grumbled while getting up from the floor. However, it was clear that it wasn’t ‘ _fine’_ , because she plunked herself down on the bed, looking anywhere but at Shaw, a visible pout on her face.

 

 _Good Lord in heaven…_ Root acting like a petulant kid wasn’t something entirely new to Sameen. She’d witnessed such a behavior on two or three occasions in the past. What really surprised her instead was the fact that the hacker was clearly upset because she couldn’t take a stupid rug with her. _A fucking purple shag rug!_

 

Shaw sighed, rolling her eyes. _Lord, give me patience, ‘cause if you give me strength, I may just smack someone…_ However, as annoyed as the former ISA operative was at Root’s antics, she hated to see the hacker upset. “Okay, Root,” Sameen, therefore, began, “tell me. What’s so special about this rug that you want to keep it so desperately, huh?”

 

The hacker shrugged her shoulders, still refusing to look the Persian’s way. “Nothing, I guess,” she mumbled in reply.

 

“ _Nothing_ ,” Shaw repeated, slightly confused. “Okay...” She sighed again. Trying to understand Root seemed to be harder than quantum physics sometimes. _Well, who am I kidding? Most of the time._ However, she had to try at least. Therefore, the former ISA operative sat down beside Root on the bed, the hacker still actively avoiding eye contact, looking at her fingernails instead. Sameen noticed that the taller woman had painted her nails black again. One tiny evidence that Samaritan was gone for good actually.

 

“Root… You decorated this… Batcave”, Sameen gestured at the makeshift room with her right hand, “the way it is, and that’s okay. But there’s no fucking way you’ll turning our apartment into a 90’s teenager home. That’s _definitely_ not my style. And as long as you live with me you’ll have to accept that.”

 

Root just huffed. “Fine. I’ll get my own apartment then,” she muttered spitefully. The moment the words had left her lips the hacker asked herself why she’d said that. She didn’t even _want_ to change their current living arrangements, being happy the way it was. _Urgh, I’m an idiot…_

 

Shaw, knowing that Root was just being a moody smartass right now, really considered smacking her for a second. _Just a little tap on the back of her head… Just enough to knock this fucking childish behavior out of her…_ Finally, instead of slapping her, Shaw shook her head in annoyance at Root. “God, you’re such a dick sometimes,” she growled while getting up from the bed and making her way out of the makeshift bedroom.

 

 _Shit…_ The hacker bit her lip for a second, following Shaw with her eyes. She knew that her friend, _well_ , her _girlfriend_ – _That’s the more accurate term, isn’t it?_ – was right. Trying to get her way at whatever cost and acting like an asshole wasn’t a good way to maintain a relationship. _Or whatever we’re calling this thing we have_ , Root thought _._

 

“Sameen, wait,” she pleaded, swallowing her pride for once. “ _Please,_ ” she added after a beat, her voice barely more than a whisper. 

 

The former ISA operative stopped in her tracks, but didn’t turn around.

 

Root sighed. “I’m sorry,” she muttered ruefully. “It’s just…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. A bad habit she had since childhood.

 

Shaw turned around and scrutinized Root with a dark look. “What?” she asked, the annoyance in her voice still audible. “Just tell me,” she demanded after a short pause, her voice more gentle this time, sensing Root’s Eeyore mode coming up. “ _Today_ , if possible,” the ex-ISA agent added nevertheless, noticing the taller woman’s hesitation.

 

The hacker cringed a bit at this, nevertheless replied, “I know it’s stupid, but…” She looked down again, avoiding Sameen’s gaze. “When I was a kid my mom and I lived on the outskirts of Bishop… in a trailer, ‘cause we didn’t have much money.” _Not so good ol’ days._

 

Root’s mind wandered back in time for a second, to the grey trailer they’d called home back then. However, to her it never had felt like ‘ _home_ ’, never had felt like a place she belonged. It just had been the cramped and dusty rust-heap she’d returned to for the night. At least most of the time. Sometimes she’d stayed away the whole night, not wanting to get back to this place she had to share with her sick mother. On these occasions, she’d camped outside, looking up at the stars on a warm Texan night, enjoying the feeling of space and freedom for once. Receiving a few smacks from her mother on the following day for not coming home at night – because she actually had been worried about her daughter’s well being or just because she’d been mad about little Samantha’s disobedience, Root wasn’t sure – had been a small price to pay for the experience in the hacker’s opinion.

 

“I didn’t have a room for myself for my whole childhood,” Root admitted. “And later, as an adult I thought that I didn’t need one. I mean, I had safehouses and such, but none of them ever felt like _my_ place, you know? So, this,” she gestured at the subway’s alcove, “was the first place that felt like _home_ to me,” she confessed silently, a small sad smile playing around her lips. “A place where I could have my own room. _Sort of_ at least. A place that has a deeper meaning. A place that I could share with the people I love.” She finally looked up at Shaw, blinking away a few tears that had crept into her hazel eyes. “Now that I have to leave this place behind, I just want to take some things to my new home, I guess.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry I put up a fuss because of a stupid rug,” Root, eventually, mumbled apologizingly.

 

 _God, now_ I _feel like an asshole_ , Shaw thought, still staring at the hacker with an unreadable expression on her face. She didn’t know what to say in response to Root’s revelation. Words never really were her strong suit. But her father had always told her that actions spoke louder than words. Therefore, the former ISA operative, eventually, just nodded once and squatted down, grabbing one end of the purple shag rug with both of her hands.

 

“What’re you doing?” Root asked, looking at the crouched down woman in confusion.

 

Shaw looked up at the other woman, a determined look on her face as she rolled up the rug with a few quick moves. “Let me get this straight,” she began, ignoring the hacker’s tiny smirk at her not so intended pun, “this rug is _fucking ugly_ and we’ll never be best friends. But it’s important for you. And you… are, uhm… important to me. So, I can tolerate this purple dust catcher in our apartment.” She stood up, carrying the rolled up rug under her arm.

 

Root gave her girlfriend a grateful smile. “Shaw…,” she whispered, her eyes shining with fresh tears.

 

“Oh for _fuck’s sake_ , Root. It’s just a _rug_ ,” the former ISA agent groaned, cutting the hacker off before she could launch into a full speech of thanks, nevertheless smiling good-natured. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, will you?”

 

The hacker just nodded. They both knew that she wasn’t getting all emotional because of a simple rug. Even if it was a nice rug in Root’s opinion. No, the thing that made tears of joy flooding her eyes was the deeper meaning behind Shaw’s agreement on taking the rug with them. Furthermore, if _‘you’re important to me’_ wasn’t a declaration of love Shaw-style, what else would be?

 

Root got up from the bed, stepping up to Shaw, invading her personal space. “I won’t,” the hacker promised. “But a little _‘thank you’_ would be appropriate, don’t you think, Sweetie?” she asked, a tiny smirk on her face and a glint in her eyes.

 

Sameen gave a small grin at that. Her gaze wandered down to Root’s neck for a second, where the faint bruises of their last… intercourse two days ago were visible still, then back up to her brown eyes. _God, does she know that her eyes are almost hypnotizing with all these emotions swimming in them?_ “I agree,” the Persian woman announced her affirmation. A second later Root’s lips were on her own, capturing them in a soft kiss.

 

“Thank you,” the hacker mumbled when she broke away after a few seconds, looking at Shaw with love in her eyes.

 

The smaller woman just nodded. If she was honest to herself, she had to admit that she would do anything for her crazy hacker girlfriend.

 

 _Stop!_ Shaw’s mind came to an abrupt halt. _Did I just think of Root as my girlfriend?! Huh… Well, doesn’t sound that bad... Girlfriend. Girl-friend. Hmh… Yep, I can live with that_ , the former Marine decided eventually. She looked around the subway then, taking in the demolished place. “If we want to keep on working numbers, then we’ve to get a new base,” she stated.

 

Root nodded. “Yea,” she agreed, a bit absent-minded. Then, her face lit up as an idea hit her suddenly and she looked at Shaw with a grin.

 

“And I know the perfect place for this.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What place could Root have in mind? Maybe you can guess it :)
> 
> Additionally: I have this headcanon about Root’s not so nice childhood. We saw some snippets in “Bad Code” (3x02). It was said that little Samantha’s mom had been “sick”, but it was never explained what illness she had. I wondered if she had a disease or if it was more the case of something like alcoholism. I want to explore Root’s past more in future chapters, so I’m interested in your opinion about this. So, please leave your thoughts in the comments :)


	9. New starts and old memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root and Shaw are setting up their new HQ, and the hacker has a long overdue talk with the Machine. Also, the new place needs some christening, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, guys. Life is busy… Hope the new chapter will make up for it :)

 

* * *

 

 

“Since when do you own a library, Root?” Sameen Shaw asked as she took in the foyer of the old building in Downtown Manhattan her girlfriend had led her to.

 

The taller woman shrugged. “Well, Harold’s not the only one to hold property,” she replied. “And to be exact it’s a _former_ public library. It had been closed down in 2008 and went to seed since then. And _I_ don’t own it, but a woman named Judith Taylor.” Root gave Sameen a grin, showing nearly perfect white teeth. “You know, she’s a nice old lady with a big fortune and an affection for old abandoned buildings. So, she just decided to buy this place a few months ago out of pure sentiment.”

 

“ _Pure sentiment_ , huh?” Shaw shook her head, smiling slightly. She knew that Root must have bought this abandoned building in case they had to leave the subway and would need a new place as their HQ. _Which exactly happened_. She also knew that Root must have used a part of the money she’s got stowed away on various offshore bank accounts around the world – which she’d earned through questionably shady ways no doubt – to afford such luxury. _Huh. Who am I to judge, right?_ Shaw surely wouldn’t loose sleep about some mob bosses Root had most likely stolen the money from.

 

The Persian stepped through a door, which led her to the main reading room. Altogether, with the bookshelves and the wood paneling, this place reminded her a lot of their former base in the old library. _Well, maybe it’s because all libraries seem to look the same…_ The ex-ISA agent watched Bear for a moment, the dog sniffing at the bookshelves curiously, then looked at Root again. “Why _this_ place?”

 

“Was the only one I didn’t have to overrun my budget for,” the taller woman answered, grinning.

 

Knowing fully well that this wasn’t true, Shaw just tilted her head and raised her brows, staring at her girlfriend.

 

Root sighed, the grin fading from her face. “Well, it was this or an abandoned hotel… You know I have a thing for libraries. They… feel like home to me somehow.”

 

“You were locked up in a cage in the last library we used as HQ,” Shaw reminded her with a deadpan look. _Not to mention all the unpleasant memories related to the library in Bishop._

 

The hacker shrugged her shoulders again. “Never got grounded at home?” she asked with a grin, then went back to being earnest after a second when Shaw didn’t show any sign of being amused. “I deserved it at that time,” Root admitted with a sigh, “Gave me time to think.” _Even though it wasn’t fun to be locked away like an animal._ She looked down at a table beside her, drawing meaningless patterns in the layer of dust with her index finger for a moment. Then, she looked back up at the smaller woman. “I can’t explain it completely, but I feel that _this_ is the right place, Sameen.”

 

Shaw gave a light smile at this and nodded. “Okay. Good job then, _Judith_.”

 

Root just grinned.

 

 

\----------

 

 

A few hours later Shaw and Root had managed to move most of the computer equipment from the subway to the library. They may or may not have stolen a truck for this… While Root had been busy connecting cables and setting up the computers, Shaw had went out to get them something to eat from Park’s Deli, taking Bear with her for a little walk. Therefore, it was just Root at the library right now.

 

Well, her and an omnipresent ASI.

 

Giving a pleased sigh at the properly working technology in front of her, the hacker tapped her earpiece one time. “You there?” she asked.

 

 _“Yes,”_ the Machine answered in her good ear.

 

It was still strange for Root to hear her own voice every time she talked to the ASI. Which hadn’t been very often since the hacker had woken up from coma. Without doubt, she’d been really glad that the Machine had managed to survive the Ice-9 and revive Herself. Nevertheless, their connection wasn’t as tight anymore as it had been before the whole death-faking-stuff. And that wasn’t just due to the lacking cochlear implant.

 

“Wanted to know what you think of the new place,” Root said while looking into the monitor’s webcam in front of her.

 

 _“It’s nice. I think it’ll meet all our requirements,”_ the Machine answered.

 

Root nodded, satisfied. For a moment, she just stared into the camera, playing with the hem of her blue tee, slightly nervous. “You… uhm… you’ve been really quiet lately,” the hacker stated eventually.

 

 _“So have you,”_ came the Machine’s answer. It wasn’t a reproach, just a statement in Root’s own soft voice. However, the hacker bit her lip, feeling a bit guilty. Even though she knew there was no reason for it. It was her right to be a little sour still, wasn’t it?

 

“You know why,” Root answered, sounding a bit defensive.

 

 _“Yes”_ , the ASI confirmed. _“You’re still upset that I faked your death, although I told you that it was the best way to save your life and to defeat Samaritan. I think the outcome proves me right,”_ She explained calmly.

 

“Yea, it kinda does, huh?” Root admitted quietly. “But… did you _really_ have to tell Sameen that I was dead? I mean, she’s very good at keeping a secret, you know?”

 

_“If I told Primary Asset Shaw that you were alive at that time, her focus wouldn’t have been on the mission fully anymore. The risk to loose the final fight against Samaritan would’ve increased by-“_

 

“ _Argh_ , _fuck you_ and your mathematics,” the hacker growled while screwing up her face, although she knew that the Machine was right. Saving the ASI had been her own priority for most of the time, knowing fully well that they all would’ve been doomed if the Machine would’ve died. Samaritan would’ve ruled the world, wiping them out in no time. Nevertheless, Root still couldn’t shake the feeling of anger at the thought of Sameen mourning her “death”.

 

 _“You’re angry,”_ the ASI noted.

 

The hacker gave a short humorless laugh at that. “Damn right, _Sherlock_.” After a moment, she sighed and leaned back in her chair, feeling her anger fading slightly. “You know… John died… thinking I was dead.” Root could suddenly feel tears stinging her eyes at this thought. She tried to blink them away, frustrated at the way her body reacted. _God, being an emotional person sucks sometimes._ “He… he’ll never know I made it.” She swallowed. _“I miss him.”_

 

 _“I know.”_ The Machine’s voice was calm and steady. _“I miss him too.”_

 

Root nodded her head lightly at that. “And Shaw…,” she continued, “She even visited my grave, thinking I was six feet under.” The hacker shook her head. “She may not feel like most people do, but one thing I’ve learned about Sameen Shaw is that she _has_ feelings. Didn’t you think it was _damn cruel_ to do that to her after everything she’s been through?” Root gave a snort. “And you know that I’ve done _some cruel stuff_.”

 

 _“I know that my decisions may seem unintelligible, even horrible from your point of view,”_ the Machine answered. _“But I knew that Primary Asset Shaw was strong enough to deal with the situation. And I knew for sure that my decision to fake your death was the only way to achieve the best outcome possible under the given circumstances.”_

 

“You keep telling me that,” Root murmured, rolling her eyes at the webcam slightly.

 

 _“Of all people_ you _should know best that some decisions_ have _to be made. And then you’ll have to live with the consequences,”_ the ASI replied. She paused for a moment. “ _The seconds before you got shot I ran 12.483 simulations. You know, they differ in some aspects, sometimes just tiny bits, other times the action takes a very different turn. But, in each and every simulation you swerved the car so that the bullet wouldn’t hit Harold but you instead. There was nothing I could do to change that. And don’t you think I didn’t try… Because that, Root, was the_ one decision _you obviously_ had _to make.”_

 

The hacker swallowed, touching the part of her chest, where the scar of the gunshot wound was hidden underneath her shirt, lightly with her fingertips. Before she’d gotten hit by the 6.5 round Root had told Harold that she wouldn’t change anything. Even now, with the knowledge of the things that’ve happened to her – the pain of torture and gunshot wounds, the temporarily loss of Sameen, her near death experience – the former killer-for-hire would make the same decisions the second time around. _Including taking a bullet for Harold._

 

Root shook her head, a slight smile visible on her face. “You _really_ know us better than we know ourselves, huh?”

 

 _“Well, you’re my Analog Interface. I know you quite well. In fact, I know you exactly to 99.6 percent accuracy,”_ the Machine replied. _“So, I know you well enough,”_ she continued after a short pause, _“to find it a bit strange that you haven’t contacted Harold yet.”_

 

The hacker sighed. “He doesn’t know I’m alive, does he?” she asked after a moment.

 

_“No. I wanted to leave it up to you to tell him.”_

 

Root hummed in reply. “He knows that you made it, right?”

 

_“Yes. I contacted him right after I rebooted myself from my core heuristics. I told him that Sameen and Fusco survived too. He wanted to come back, but I could convince him to go through with his original plan to reunite with Grace in Italy.”_

 

The hacker smiled at that. “Good choice, Harry,” she murmured, more to herself than the Machine.

 

After that, Root and the ASI both fell quiet for a few moments, until the Machine once again spoke through the hacker’s earpiece. _“Given the effort you put into getting back to health and arranging a new base, I’ll take it that you’re still interested in helping with the numbers, despite our dissent about the way things should’ve been handled.”_

 

Root shrugged her shoulders. “Well, Samaritan may be dead and gone, but the numbers keep coming, don’t they?” She looked into the webcam. “You sent Sameen on three solo missions the last few weeks. And I’m grateful for that, because the girl goes stir-crazy if she doesn’t get to shoot some kneecaps once in a while. However, you didn’t sent _me_.” A short pause. “You know that I hate to be sidelined,” the hacker finally said, a small pout visible on her face.

 

 _“I wanted you to heal before I put you on missions again, Root,”_ the Machine replied. _“You almost died.”_

 

The hacker nodded. “Yea. But now I’m back from the dead. I’m still your Analog Interface and I want to do the tasks you’ve chosen me for. You know, like the good ol’ times.” She smiled into the camera and gave her special wink, using both eyes instead of one.

 

Root once told Control that she viewed the Machine as her power, her reason for existing and her friend. Despite having a different point of view in terms of certain things and despite everything that had happened in the last months, the hacker couldn’t say that her attitude had changed altogether. They’re dynamic might’ve changed a bit and she might be more warily towards the ASI than before, but the hacker still trusted the all-seeing entity.

 

 _“Well, I see you’re ready then. It would be my pleasure to work with you again, Root,”_ the Machine 3.0 told her Analog Interface through her earpiece, making the hacker smile. _“I’m sorry I had your cochlear implant removed. I guess you might want a new one, so we can communicate directly again without possible interferences?”_

 

The hacker thought about it for a moment. She’d been living without a CI for some time now, and it still felt strange. _As if a part of me is missing. Weird, ‘cause I didn’t have it for most of my life._ “Guess that would be nice,” she replied softly.

 

 _“It’ll be arranged,”_ the ASI answered. _“May I make a suggestion?”_ She asked after a short pause.

 

Root nodded.

 

_“Detective Fusco has proven himself as a capable and trustworthy asset. He helped Asset Shaw many times in the past few months. May I suggest that you reveal yourself to him? It would make working together much easier. At least I think so…”_

 

The hacker gave a small grin at the Machine’s attempt of humor. “Why didn’t you just tell him?” she asked.

 

 _“I don’t think Detective Fusco enjoys me talking to him the same way you do,”_ the ASI replied.

 

Root tilted her head and raised her brows. “That might be true.” She smirked. “Poor Fusco. He’ll have a heart attack when he sees me. He’ll think that he stumbled right into a zombie nightmare.”

 

_“Well, despite the Detective’s quite unhealthy diet, the risk of a heart attack is just around 14.6 percent. And his belief in the existence of zombies-“_

 

“Yea, yea,” Root cut off the Machine’s ramblings with a chuckle. “Thanks for the info. I’ll risk it.” She was quiet for a moment, thousands of different thoughts running through her mind. However, one thought was quite outstanding at the moment. The hacker leaned forward, looking into the webcam.

 

“Before we work together again, can you please do me a favor?”

 

_“Absolutely.”_

 

 

\-----------

 

 

When Shaw returned to the library, she found Root sitting on the windowsill of one of the big windows in the main reading room, which now served as their headquarters. The hacker seemed lost in thought, looking down at the rush-hour traffic on the street below. She looked up, however, when Bear trotted over and greeted her by nudging his snout into the side of her thigh.

 

“Hey, Big Boy,” the hacker murmured, scratching the dog between his ears for a moment. Then she looked up, smiling at Sameen, who’d come closer too. “Hi, Sweetie. You brought something good?” she asked, eying the brown paper bag, Shaw held in her hands, curiously.

 

“Well,” Sameen replied, retrieving a sandwich from the bag. “Here we have Pepper turkey, gouda cheese, romaine lettuce, tomatoes and Russian dressing on Semolina roll,” she listed the ingredients of the _Brooklyn Bridge_ sandwich. “I’d call that _good_.”

 

Feeling her mouth watering, Root noticed how hungry she really was. Grabbing the sandwich with a short ‘Thanks’ from Sameen’s hands, the hacker digged into it eagerly. “ _Wow_. That’s good _indeed_ ,” she confirmed, munching happily.

 

Shaw just stared at her girlfriend for a moment, slightly stunned and amused at the same time. _Digging into food enthusiastically. Isn’t that my part?_

 

“You’re spending way too much time with me,” the former ISA operative stated, shaking her head, a light smirk on her face, while she sat at the table next to Root and grabbed her own sandwich. A _Beatrice Lillie_ as usual. 

 

“That’s a problem?” Root asked, getting up from her position on the windowsill to sit at the table beside Sameen.

 

The ex-ISA agent hummed. “Well, you’re turnin’ into a nutball version of me, obviously,” she replied with a small grin.

 

Root gave a playful pout at that. “Am not,” she grumbled, chewing.

 

“Sure you do,” Sameen insisted with a chuckle. “You practically _inhaled_ this sandwich.”

 

Looking down at the tiny bit of bread that was left of the admittedly big sandwich after not even a minute, the hacker found her girlfriend’s statement to be true. “Well,” Root said, blushing a bit, “it _was_ good.”

 

Sameen shook her head, smiling slightly. “I’ve only seen you eat with this much enthusiasm when you’re really happy.” Most of the time the hacker picked on food like a baby bird. On hunger strike. Shaw didn’t know how many times she’d told Root that apples alone weren’t a balanced diet. “Did something happen while I was away?” Sameen asked.

 

“I set up the system. Everything works properly. And… I talked with the Machine,” Root replied, smiling softly.

 

“Guess it turned out okay then, huh?”

 

“More than okay,” the hacker answered. “We settled our differences. And I’ll be working numbers again from now on.”

 

Shaw nodded. “That’s good. Both of it.” She understood that Root had been upset with the Machine’s decisions. _Hell_ , the Persian herself had wanted to put a few bullets into the ASI’s servers not so long ago. However, seeing Root without her usual connection to the ASI had been hard for Shaw – although she’d never admit it. The hacker had seemed kinda… lost. As if a part of her was missing. The former ISA operative may not understand Root’s relationship with the Machine fully sometimes. But what she _did_ understand was the fact that the hacker’s unique connection to the ASI was an essential part of her existence now. Being back on good terms with the ASI made Root happy, obviously. And Root being happy was something that made Shaw feel good.

 

“So,” Sameen said after she scarfed down the last bits of her sandwich, “are there any new missions?”

 

 _“Well, Sameen,”_ the Machine’s voice resounded in Shaw’s earpiece, _“there are a lot of missions in fact. But first Root has a mission of her own.”_

 

The former ISA agent furrowed her brows in confusion and stared at her girlfriend questioningly. “Root… Is there a reason for the Machine sounding like Scarlett Johansson?”

 

The hacker smirked. “Do you remember our talk about finding it weird, confusing even, that She communicates using my voice?”

 

Shaw nodded.

 

“Well,” the other woman continued, “I talked to Her and asked Her to choose another voice as Her own.”

 

“And She just chose Scarlett Johansson’s voice by Her own?” Shaw asked, the doubt clearly written on her face.

 

Root shrugged her shoulders. “Well… I might’ve made a suggestion…”

 

The Persian woman tilted her head. _Aha._ “Why Scarlett Johansson?”

 

The hacker shrugged again. “After watching _Her_ and _Lucy_ I knew that her voice would be a good decision. This deep timbre…”

 

“Root,” Sameen growled threateningly as her girlfriend’s eyes glazed over with a dreamy look.

 

“What?” the taller woman asked innocently. “You have to admit that ScarJo’s voice is kinda alluring.”

 

“Okay, that’s it,” Shaw grumbled. “Now I have to kill that woman.”

 

Root chuckled. _God, she’s cute. In a homicidal kind of way._ “Jealous, Sweetie?” she asked with a small smirk on her lips.

 

The Persian narrowed her eyes. “You wish.” _You bet._ She sighed. “Well, maybe a bit,” she admitted a moment later, causing her girlfriend to grin widely. “I just don’t know if I’m okay with the fact that you’re about to get a lady boner every time you’ll talk with the Machine now.”

 

“Oh, Sweetie,” Root said with a small chuckle, while sliding closer to the smaller woman, “I assure you that you’re the only one these days causing that reaction.” Then, she gave a light shrug and looked at Sameen innocently. “Besides, you can’t _fuck_ a nice voice, can you?”

 

A second later Shaw’s hand connected with the back of her girlfriend’s head, causing her to yelp. Admittedly, more in surprise than in pain. Rubbing the slightly sore spot, Root glared at the smaller woman. “ _Ow!_ I was joking, you know?”

 

The former Marine just rolled her eyes at that. Then, she suddenly grabbed the hacker by the front of her tee and pulled her in, so that their faces were just inches apart from each other. “Well, it’s a good thing that I’m _more_ than just a nice voice then, huh?” she said with a husky voice, a smirk playing around her lips.

 

Root stared at the compact Persian with wide eyes, her breath caught for a moment. Her stomach did a backflip at Shaw’s dilated pupils, recognizing the lust reflected in them. For a moment, the hacker’s brain wasn’t functioning properly. This very rarely ever happened to her, but Sameen definitely had that affect on her from time to time. Especially when the Persian was the one teasing for a change.

 

Needing a second to compose herself, Root swallowed. Hard. Her own arousal was flaring up, making itself noticeable by a familiar pull in her lower abdomen. “Oh, I can see that, Sweetie,” the hacker drawled after she came back to her senses. Leaning in, Root captured Sameen’s lips with her own, kissing her softly. “Want me to explore the nice things I see?” she teased, completely back in control now.

 

For a second, Shaw’s eyes flickered over to Bear, who was resting on his dog bed, deeply contented. Root had to suppress a laugh at this. Sameen Shaw, former Marine, former ISA operative, though as nails and trained to kill you with her bare hands, actually hesitated to have a sexual intercourse in front of a dog. And it wasn’t because she was shy or something, that much the hacker knew. No, the small Persian had told Root after the last incident that she didn’t want to risk Bear being traumatized by having him watch their sexual activities again. _He’s a dog, not a child, for god’s sake_ , the hacker thought.

 

“To hell…,” Sameen muttered after a moment and pulled Root more into her roughly, so that the hacker was sitting on her lap now. Apparently, she’d decided to go against her principles for once, her lust winning over her fear for Bear’s mental well being.

 

Smirking, Root let her hands wander over Shaw’s body, getting lost in the feeling of the operative’s well-defined muscles and perfect curves. _God, I’m so lucky._ She felt Sameen’s hand on her neck, drawing her in for another kiss, more roughly this time. The hacker rocked herself against her girlfriend’s thigh, moaning softly as the action sent a jolt to her groin.

 

Suddenly Shaw got up from the chair, dragging Root with her. For a moment, the hacker was confused. _Did I do something wrong?_ Then her backside hit the polished surface of the wooden table and the brunette woman realized that Sameen just had wanted to get them into another position. A second later, the hacker was pushed down, so that she was lying on her back on the table’s surface. _Okay, I can work with that._ She glanced up at Shaw with a smirk. Then, she moaned softly again as the Persian positioned herself between the hacker’s legs und pressed herself against her. _I definitely like this position._

 

Shaw looked down at the woman beneath her, holding herself up with her hands pressed flatly against the table’s surface on each side of Root’s torso. She felt the hacker writhe underneath her, heard her soft moan as she pressed her lower abdomen against her center. _Damn, she’s hot._ Root’s silky chestnut hair was sprawled out on the table, a few strands shimmering golden in the rays of sunlight that fell through the windows. _This woman would be a perfect model for a L’Oreal ad._

 

Sameen rucked up Root’s tee, revealing her black lace bra, and dragged her nails down the hacker’s firm abs, leaving slightly red welts.

 

Root gave a low moan of pleasure at this. Then she grabbed Shaw’s left wrist, putting her girlfriend’s hand to her own throat, silently begging her to choke her.

 

And the déjà vu hit Shaw like a freight train, unexpected and forceful.

 

_Fuck._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, whoops…! Admit it, you didn’t expect that ;) 
> 
> Preview for the next chapter: Even a trained operative isn’t spared from PTSD. And: Poor Fusco thinks he’s seeing ghosts.


	10. Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even a trained operative isn’t spared from PTSD. And poor Fusco thinks he’s seeing ghosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn’t have to wait for the new chapter *that* long. Yeah! Have fun reading, you guys! :)  
> (By the way: The chapter’s title is a quote from Albert Einstein.)

 

* * *

 

 

“Sameen… Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Root asked, a worried expression on her face, while sitting up on the table, her arousal forgotten given her girlfriend’s strange behavior.

 

At one moment, Shaw had been all over her, fueling the hacker’s desire, and the next moment the Persian had suddenly retreated as if she’d been burned. Now she was standing a few feet away, breathing heavily and staring at Root with wide eyes. The hacker could see the confusion reflected in them. And something else. _Is that… fear?_

 

“Sameen…,” Root tried again, but her girlfriend didn’t respond. Instead, she mumbled something under her breath, which the other woman didn’t understand, and put two fingers on her own neck, feeling for something behind her left ear.

 

It clicked in Root’s brain just as the Machine’s voice resounded in her earpiece. _“Primary Asset Shaw seems to have a relapse.”_

 

The hacker nodded slightly, more to herself than to the ASI. She knew that Shaw’s recurring habit was feeling behind her ear for reassurance in certain situations since she came back from Samaritan’s captivity. Sameen had told her about the simulations and the chip Samaritan had lead her to believe was implanted in her head to control her. Everytime her girlfriend reached behind her left ear now Root knew that she did it to reassure herself that there wasn’t an implant. That this was reality, not just a simulation.

 

The hacker was aware that PTSD wasn’t something that vanished over night. However, Shaw’s relapses had been less frequent in the past weeks. Something must’ve triggered her current condition.

 

Slowly, Root slid from the table and approached Shaw cautiously. “Sweetie?” she called her girlfriend by her nickname quietly.

 

 _“You should refrain from physical contact for the moment,”_ the ASI warned. _“The risk of Primary Asset Shaw reacting violently to touch is at 78.49 percent right now.”_

 

Root just gave a snort at that. _What’s a little violence between girlfriends, huh?_ The last time she’d helped Shaw to get out of this I-don’t-know-what’s-reality-anymore-thing she’d been at gun-point. She’d been willing to shoot herself also. So, _this_ was innocuous by comparison.

 

Nevertheless, Root didn’t touch the compact Persian in front of her yet. Not because she was afraid that Shaw could hurt her, even though she was aware that the former Marine could break her neck with her bare hands. Or beat her to a pulp at least. No, the reason for Root being extra careful right now wasn’t to protect herself primarily, but to avoid that her girlfriend would blame herself for loosing control, for being a risk to the hacker.

 

“Sameen,” Root tried again. “I know that I told you a few months ago that the real world is essentially a simulation anyway. But… you can trust me when I tell you now that _this_ is real,” she said in a soothing voice. “You’re save.” _Come on, please believe me._

 

The tiny Persian woman blinked a few times, trying to understand how she went from wanting to lay her beautiful hacker girlfriend to having something similar to a panic attack. She remembered Root lying on the table, writhing underneath her touch, the black lace bra, the red blouse she’d just ripped open… _No. That’s not right._ Shaw stared at the taller woman, her eyes gliding over the crinkled blue tee. Root was definitely not wearing a red blouse right now. _But the table…_ _And the choking…_ _Damn…_

 

Shaw shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind, still breathing heavily. Different memories were overlapping in her head right now and she had difficulties to distinguish between those that had happened just in the simulations that Samaritan had put her through, and those that were reality. _Fuck._

 

The former ISA operative heard Root telling her that _this_ was real and she desperately wanted to believe her. Still pressing two fingers against her own neck, feeling for a chip that she hoped wasn’t there, Shaw glanced at Bear, who eyed her curiously and in alert as if he knew that something wasn’t quite right. Then she looked back at Root. The hacker clearly was trying to remain calm, but it was obvious that she was worried about her.

 

“Sameen… Please… This isn’t a simulation,” Root’s voice was begging her to snap out of it. The Persian woman felt for an implant behind her ear for a few more seconds. _Simulation-Root would tell me that this isn’t a simulation, wouldn’t she?_

 

Root could see the gears turning in Shaw’s head, but the smaller woman was still hesitating. _Come on, snap out of it._ “Dammit, Sameen!” The hacker’s voice sounded worried still, but slightly angry too, now. “Do I really have to get my gun and threaten to shoot myself _again_ to convince you that this is real?” _You know that I would do this._

 

This made Shaw pause. _Okay, sim-Root’s definitely not that crazy._ Eventually, after convincing herself that there was nothing but smooth skin behind her left ear, the former Marine lowered her hand slowly. _This is real. This is real. This is real…_ She repeated the sentence in her head like a mantra, while trying to even out her breathing at the same time. _This isn’t a simulation. This is real._

 

“Root…,” Sameen whispered eventually.

 

The hacker felt an ache in her heart at seeing the usual tough as nails operative so vulnerable. She looked so… forlorn. _This look definitely doesn’t suit her. Well, at least she seems to be back in reality._

 

“Welcome back,” Root said with a light smile and took a few tentative steps in Shaw’s direction.

 

The ex-ISA agent just looked at her girlfriend, her facial expression suddenly full of shame. “I thought… I was over it,” she mumbled. “I... I didn’t know what was real anymore. I-”

 

“Hey,” Root cut her off softly, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay?” She reached for Sameen, and when the tiny Persian didn’t retreat she pulled her in for a hug. _Fuck the risk of violent behavior._

 

Shaw was a bit rigid at first. Normally, she didn’t do hugging. And if she did, it always felt quite strange to her. However, with Root it was somewhat different. Well, to be earnest, everything was different with Root. Therefore, the former ISA agent melted into her girlfriend’s embrace after a few seconds.

 

“I’ve been back for almost four months now,” the Persian said quietly, “I don’t know why… _this_ … keeps happening.”

 

“Oh, Sweetie,” Root replied softly and rubbed Sameen’s back gently, “For someone with a medical degree you’re quite naïve when it comes to PTSD, huh?”

 

“ _Hey!_ ” Shaw growled lowly against the side of the hacker’s neck, but didn’t pull out of the hug. Normally, she would’ve felt embarrassed, being hugged like this. Somewhat like a child. But she had to admit that it felt good. She felt safe in Root’s arms. _Maybe I can stay like this for a few moments more_ , the Persian decided.

 

Root snickered quietly at Shaw’s reaction, and then said, “Some things need time, Sameen.” _We’re the best example for this, aren’t we?_ She could hear the smaller woman in her arms sighing, then she felt her nodding slightly. “You’re going to be okay, Sweetie,” the hacker murmured. “And you have me to show you what’s real, alright?”

 

Shaw pulled away a bit to look at the taller woman’s face, not quite letting go of the hacker yet. Everytime she thought about it, she couldn’t quite believe how their relationship had grown in the past few years. How this tall and crazy hacker had went from someone she wanted to shoot – someone she _had_ shot actually – to someone she really cared about. _She’s my anchor. She’s home._

 

She wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ – call it love. At least not yet. The way she was wired, Shaw wasn’t even sure if she could feel something like love. However, she could understand the concept behind it. And she was sure that the way the volume was turned up in her because of Root was as close to it as it could get.

 

“Thank you,” Shaw said and she meant it.

 

Root gave her a bright smile. “You’re welcome.”

 

Sameen returned the smile for a moment, then her face changed to a somewhat annoyed expression. “If you threaten to shoot yourself to get your way one more time, I’ll smack you so hard that even your ancestors will feel it.”

 

Something flashed in Root’s eyes and she smirked at the smaller woman, while tilting her head to one side. “Promises, promises,” she drawled cheekily.

 

Shaw just huffed and pulled out of the embrace finally, deciding to end the hug before it could get awkward. _Enough cuddling for one day._ Then, she plunked herself down on one of the chairs. The hacker followed, leaning casually against the table beside the Persian. For a moment, they both were silent, the noise of the New York traffic outside the only sound that could be heard.

 

“Do you…,” the hacker started hesitantely, “Do you know what… caused the relapse?” She waited a second for Shaw’s reaction, but there was none. “I mean,” Root continued, “we had sex before, but you never…” She stopped herself, then tried again, “What I want to say is, that if we know the reason behind it, we maybe could-“

 

“It happened because we did it on the table,” Shaw interrupted the taller woman, not quite looking at Root, but staring straight ahead.

 

The hacker frowned in confusion. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I didn’t… get off. So… we didn’t actually-“ She was cut off by Sameen for a second time.

 

“No.” Shaw shook her head. “We did it… in my memory.”

 

The hacker contracted her brows. “I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean, Sweetie.”

 

The former Marine sighed. _God, why’s everything so complicated?_ She looked up at her girlfriend, finally. “I told you about the simulations.”

 

Root nodded.

 

“Well, what I didn’t tell you is that we had sex in these simulations. Many times.”

 

The taller brunette’s eyebrows shot up. _Interesting…_

 

Shaw rubbed the back of her own neck with her hand, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the confession. “Sometimes I banged you on a table in your apartment. Well, the apartment you had in some of these simulations.”

 

“And the memories overlapped because we were just in a similar situation,” Root concluded.

 

The Persian nodded. “Yes.”

 

The taller woman hummed, while a little smirk played around her lips. “So…,” she drawled, “you’re saying you did the horizontal mambo with a sim-version of me multiple times?”

 

“Root…,” Shaw warned. She really didn’t want to elaborate on this topic further more.

 

The hacker just shrugged her shoulders and gave Sameen a lopsided grin. “What? I mean, it’s a shame I wasn’t actually part of it, but at least you had a bit fun.” _Given the fact that the rest of the simulations weren’t anything but fun apparently._ “I hope sim-me was good?” she asked with a smirk and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

 

Shaw simply looked at her girlfriend with a deadpan expression on her face. “I won’t talk about this with you anymore.” She couldn’t deny that it had been a nice diversion at that time making out with the simulated version of the hacker, even though most of the time the Persian had been quite aware that it hadn’t been real. But she definitely didn’t want to go into detail now, even though Root seemed to be okay with it. _Damn crazy chick._

 

The taller woman just chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s okay, Sameen. I won’t bug you further.”

 

After this, they both went quiet again, with Root studying Shaw’s profile silently for a moment. The Persian seemed to be calm and relaxed now, the traces of her latest relapse gone. _Good._ In addition, the Machine confirmed her assumption, whispering in her earpiece. Having convinced herself that Sameen would be okay for now, the hacker broke the silence once more. “You ready to go home?”

 

The former ISA operative nodded. “Yea. Let’s go.” She stood up and gave a low whistle for Bear to follow her and Root. The dog immediately reacted, getting up from his dog bed and falling into a trot behind his humans.

 

As they left the library side by side, Shaw glanced at the taller woman with a slight smile.

 

“What?” the hacker asked.

 

“You’re way better than a sim.”

 

Root just beamed.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Lionel Fusco was just coming off duty, leaving the precinct and walking towards his car in the parking lot, a bit after ten o’clock in the evening. Despite the fact that it was still late summer, it was already dark outside. The day had been crazy as hell and the detective craved for a cold beer and watching the rest of the football game on his new very comfortable couch he bought a few days ago.

 

Whistling an oldie absentmindedly, Fusco fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car. Getting into the driver’s seat of the vehicle, he thought about maybe stopping at Wendy’s and getting a burger as a late night snack. _Or maybe…_

 

“Hello, Lionel.”

 

Jumping with fright, the detective’s hand went to his gun by instinct. At the same time, his head whipped around to the passenger seat, where the voice had come from. “Holy fucking Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed as he realized who sat in his car.

 

Root couldn’t suppress a smirk. _How fitting given the fact that I kinda came back from the dead, too._ “I see, your nicknames for me are getting better, Lionel.”

 

“What the hell!?” The detective looked as if he was about to get a heart attack. “You’re dead!” Fusco had never really believed in ghosts and this whole supernatural stuff, but right now he was quite willing to make an exception.

 

“Well, good news, Lionel. I’m not,” the hacker said with a shrug.

 

“I saw your body in the morgue. You were dead! As in everything’s-over- _dead_ ,” Fusco argued, still freaked out by this unexpected reunion.

 

Root glanced at the detective with a guilty expression on her face. _Poor Lionel._ “Well, I almost died. That much is true,” she said. “The Machine faked my death. Without my knowledge by the way, because I wasn’t conscious at that time. She told me she did it to save me and to improve the chances for you guys to beat Samaritan.” After a short pause, she added, “I’m sorry you were fooled. And I’m sorry for everything you had to go through, Lionel. And _She_ is too.”

 

Fusco just stared at the person he believed dead for the past few months, trying to absorb the ton of new information. _Okay, so Banana Nut Crunch isn’t dead. And she’s not a ghost. That’s good._ “Does Tiny know about this?” he asked eventually.

 

 _Leave it to Fusco to play nickname generator_ , Root thought in amusement. “Yes. I mean… Sameen didn’t know that I was alive until the war against Samaritan was over. The Machine lead her to me some time after the final fight. I was comatose for a while and in bad condition. But, you know, bad weeds grow tall,” she said with an attempt to wink, failing to do it properly as usual.

 

“Wow,” the detective exclaimed, shaking his head, “Everytime I think I witnessed one hell of a crazy shit, one of you guys shows up and tops that.” _I really don’t know if I should be impressed or pissed by this._ He stared at the steering wheel for a second. Then he looked back up at the brunette woman on the passenger seat. “You think Tall and Broody will pull something similar to this?”

 

“Sorry, Lionel. I’m afraid, that won’t happen,” the hacker told Fusco with a sad smile.

 

The detective nodded slightly. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he said after a moment. “Honestly.”

 

Root gave him a sincere smile then, blinking back a few tears that tried to assault her eyes. There were few people in the world whose opinion mattered to the hacker. After everything they’d went through together, Fusco was one of them now.

 

“So,” the detective finally said, “how did Big Sister manage to fool me?”

 

Root tilted her head to one side, flashing Fusco a lopsided grin. “A little birdie told me you’re hungry. Let’s talk about this over a burger, alright?”

 

The detective pondered over it for a second. “Alright,” he finally agreed, turning the key and starting the engine of his car. He looked at Root quizzically. “You paying?”

 

The hacker flashed him a bright smile. “It would be an honor, Lionel.”

 

 

\-----

 

 

When Root returned to their apartment, it was almost midnight. She’d tried to be particularly quiet to avoid interrupting Sameen’s sleep, until the ASI told her that the Persian was still awake.

 

In fact, Shaw sat on the couch in shorts and a black tank top, absorbed in a book, Bear curled up in a ball at her feet. She looked up, however, when Root entered the living room.

 

“How’d it go with Fusco?” Sameen asked.

 

“Poor guy almost had a heart attack,” the taller woman replied. “But considering how he wolfed down a significant number of burgers, I think he’s good now.”

 

Shaw gave a smirk at that. “Sounds like the Fusco I know.”

 

Nodding lightly, Root shedded her black leather jacket and walked over to her girlfriend. Bending over the back of the couch slightly, the hacker reached down and picked up the book lying on the smaller woman’s lap to peek at the cover. “Whutering Heights?” she asked. “Didn’t figure you for a fan of Victorian literature.”

 

“Found it in your bookshelf,” Shaw answered with a shrug. “Thought it was worth a read.”

 

Root just hummed in response and leaned on the back of the couch, propping herself up on her forearms. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly. The Machine already had told her that Primary Asset Shaw was doing well, considering the fact that she’d had a relapse just hours ago – Root wouldn’t have left Sameen’s side if she hadn’t been positive that her girlfriend was okay for the moment. Nevertheless, she wanted to hear the affirmation from Shaw herself. _Just to be sure._

 

“I’m fine. Really,” Sameen assured the hacker.

 

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?” Root asked, looking at the Persian with those expressive hazel eyes that seemed to be quite typical for her.

 

_They’re like a fucking trademark._

 

Sameen thought about Root’s question for a moment. “If you’d asked me a few months ago, I think I wouldn’t have told you the truth,” she replied honestly. “But now…” _So much has changed._ She gave her girlfriend a small smile. “Yes. I would,” she said and was met with a characteristic Root grin.

 

Shaking her head good-natured, Shaw reached out and brushed a stray of chestnut hair behind Root’s good ear softly. “I’m fine, Root. At least for now. Stop worrying, okay?” she told the hacker and pecked her on the cheek. Obviously, she’d taken the other woman off-guard with this unexpected move, given the surprised look on her face. _Gotcha_ , Shaw thought smugly.

 

“What was that for?” the hacker asked in mild astonishment. It was a rare occurance that Sameen kissed her outside of any sex related context.

 

“For bearing with me,” the former Marine replied honestly. “For being my anchor to reality. Don’t make it weird, okay?”

 

Root just shook her head and smiled. “I won’t,” she promised. She stood up then, wincing as the muscles in her back protested against the movement.

 

Sameen furrowed her brows. “You okay?”

 

“Peachy,” the hacker replied, despite rubbing the small of her back with one hand. “Just a bit sore from sitting at a desk for so long to set up the tech equipment today.” As a hacker she was used to being hunched over a laptop for hours nonstop. Nevertheless, sometimes her back told her that it wasn’t happy about it.

 

Getting off the couch, Shaw stood up and mustered her girlfriend for a second. “Well, I know a good relief for that,” she said eventually and walked towards the bedroom, signaling Root to follow her.

 

“As much as I like having sex with you, Sameen, I don’t think that banging will ease the pain in my back,” the hacker muttered, but followed her girlfriend into the bedroom nevertheless.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Sometimes she got the impression that Root’s mind was that of a teenage boy, trapped inside the body of a female adult. “Who said anything about sex?” After a moment, she added, “Pull your shirt off. Bra too. And get on the bed, face down.”

 

One of Root’s perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up. “That definitely sounds like sex…,” she muttered under her breath, but did as she was told anyway.

 

A few seconds later, the hacker lay on top of the covers, her arms crossed in front of her and her head resting on them. Shaw had lowered herself so that she was kind of hovering above Root in a kneeling position, sitting on the small of her back, but keeping her full weight off her with one leg on each side of the brunette’s body. “So, you never got a massage before?” the Persian asked incredulously as she brushed Root’s chestnut waves out of the way with one hand, gathering them on the right side of her neck.

 

“Not really,” the hacker replied, turning her head to the left side so that she could glance at the smaller woman out of the corner of her eye. “I mean, there was this one time I was undercover at this Thai massage salon in Bangkok a few years ago… I had to get close to one of the masseuses. But… there wasn’t much of a massage, but more of a happy ending…,” she told Sameen with a small grin on her face.

 

Frowning, the Persian smacked the hacker’s bicep in reply. “I don’t want to hear about this,” she told her girlfriend. Shaw definitely wasn’t a prude, and she knew that Root hadn’t been a virgin before she'd met her, but the thought of her girlfriend getting it on with any other person that wasn’t her, was something Shaw didn’t want to roam her mind. _And here I thought I wouldn’t do jealous._

 

Root just chuckled. However, her laughter turned into low satisfied moans really fast as soon as Shaw started to knead the tension out of her back muscles with her capable hands. The smaller woman seemed to know exactly where to put more pressure to loosen all the tensed areas in her girlfriend’s back.

 

“ _Wow._ That’s great,” the hacker murmured after a few moments and sighed in pleasure. “Where did you learn to massage like that?”

 

“Thai massage salon,” Shaw deadpanned.

 

Root frowned. “ _What!?_ ” she exclaimed a second later, pushing herself up on her forearms and trying to turn around to glare at the Persian in annoyance.

 

Now it was Sameen’s turn to chuckle. With ease, she pushed her girlfriend back down into the mattress, pressing one hand between her shoulder blades. _Seems like I’m not the only one with jealousy issues._ “Relax,” Shaw said, still chuckling quietly, “that was a joke. I took some courses in Traditional Chinese Medicine while getting my medical degree. Tuina-Ammo is their unique art of massage,” she explained, still working on Root’s back.

 

The taller woman just hummed in reply, already lost in the feeling of Shaw’s hands on her body again. _God, this is absolutely fantastic._ The massaging movements were doing wonders for her tensed muscles and had her moaning softly.

 

Sameen smirked at the noises her massage elicited from the woman underneath her. Root appeared to be deeply relaxed now. _Good._ Still kneeding the muscles between the hacker’s shoulder blades, Shaw bent forwards so that she could whisper in Root’s good ear.

 

“If you like this, then I think you’ll _love_ the happy end I’ve planned for you,” she told her girlfriend with a grin.

 

Needless to say that Root _did_ love it indeed.

 

 

\-----

 

 

When Root woke up, it was still dark outside. A peek on her phone screen told her that it was just two minutes after three in the morning. Despite the relaxing massage she’d gotten from Sameen, followed by two fantastic orgasms, the hacker hadn’t slept more than two hours. Not enough to function properly the next day.

 

Root sighed. _Why am I up this early?_ She looked over to the other side of the bed where Sameen was snoring softly. For a moment, the hacker just admired the view of her girlfriend’s body, illuminated by the glow of the streetlights that creeped through the gaps in the blinds. The Persian was drooling a bit in her sleep. It was somewhat gross, but Root loved it anyway. She couldn’t stop herself, she simply loved everything about Sameen – even the drooling. _It’s kinda cute,_ she thought.

 

Being wide awake now, Root knew that she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. She didn’t want to disturb Shaw by tossing around either. So, she got up carefully, picking up a pair of shorts and a top from the floor, pulling them over her naked body. Grabbing her phone and the earpiece from the nightstand, the hacker tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

 

Crossing the living room, Root could see Bear’s silhouette in the dark. The dog was still lying on the couch. He looked up in alert at the intruder, but curled up again with a content sigh when he recognized the hacker.

 

Entering the room they usually used for training, Root closed the door behind her. She switched the light on and sat down on one of the training mats. The hacker was sure that the main reason for her insomnia was one specific unfinished mission. After she’d revealed her survival to Fusco, there was only one more person in the world she needed to talk to.

 

As if the Machine had read her mind, She dialed a number on the hacker’s phone autonomously. _It’s a bit after nine o’clock in the morning in Italy_ , Root thought. _Just the right time for a friendly call hopefully._ After a few rings, she heard a click, signaling her that the line was connected, and then a familiar voice greeted her with a ‘ _Hello?_ ’.

 

“Hello, Harold. It’s me… Root.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the more domestic stuff and coming to terms with a few things the show’s canon left the characters with, some more mission centered chapters will follow. I hope you like both :) Stay tuned!
> 
> UPDATE: In a first version of this chapter I wrote that it was 9 o'clock in the evening in Italy when Root called Harold. Given the fact that it was about 3 o'clock in the morning in New York, that's bullshit, obviously. Because that's not how the time zones work... It had to be 9 o'clock in the *morning* in Italy, obviously. I was half asleep when I wrote the last part of this chapter, so please excuse my mistake. I corrected it now :)


	11. Of goats, gyms and new numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root’s first mission after her recovery doesn’t go quite as planned. Meanwhile, Shaw has a bit fun at the MMA gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I’d like to give a big shout-out to delicatelyglitterywriter, who created a fantastic fanart for my story. You can look at it here:
> 
> https://delicatelyglitteryperson.tumblr.com/post/151067434585/a-person-of-interestshoot-spinoff-where-root
> 
> Thank you!! I love it!!
> 
> Second, I wrote part of this late at night. So, I hope there aren’t too many spelling and grammatical mistakes. (English can be a bitch sometimes…)
> 
> Third, thank you to everyone who’s taken the time to read this story, and everyone who’s taken a moment to comment or leave kudos. It means a lot! Enjoy the new chapter :)

 

* * *

 

 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Root muttered under her breath, sweeping the floor with the besom in her hands with a little bit more force than necessary. Particles of dust and a few straws of hay were dancing in the air, making her cough.

 

 _“You said you didn’t want to be sidelined any longer,”_ the Machine’s voice came through the hacker’s earpiece.

 

Root huffed, still trying to get her coughing fit under control. “And you thought it would be a nice welcome back present giving me a job as a zookeeper?” she asked, finally able to breath again, adjusting the gray beige cap on her head with one hand.

 

 _“My researches indicate that you_ like _animals.”_ The ASI sounded slightly defensive.

 

“Yea, I do,” the hacker replied in affirmation. _Even more than I like most human beings._ “Mucking out stables? Not so much.”

 

Hacking a few networks and being involved in gunfights – that were the things Root loved the most about the missions the Machine gave her. For weeks, she’d craved for some action – besides the action she got with Sameen in their bedroom or other places of their apartment, of course – and for the feeling of adrenaline rushing through her body. She knew that her adventurous and reckless streak could eventually get her killed someday – _for real_ this time – but Root couldn’t help it. It was part of her nature, deeply ingrained in her character, even after her brush with death. She wouldn’t call herself an adrenaline junkie per se, but the hacker also couldn’t deny that she needed her share of thrill every so often to really feel alive.

 

Root knew that sometimes you had to do the boring stuff to get the mission done. And despite their recent history of differences, the hacker still was willing to fulfill the tasks the Machine needed her for, regardless of what they were. Nevertheless, now that she was back in the field, Root couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of disappointment. Maybe it was a bit childish for her to think this way, but sweeping away dirt at the zoo seemed just so… lame.

 

_“Well, I’m sorry, but given the fact that our new number is a zookeeper-“_

 

“Yea, yea,” Root cut off the Machine’s explanation slightly irritated, while shooing off a bunch of young Nubian goats, who’d obviously thought that the legs of her olive cargo pants were worth nibbling on. “I have an eye on him,” she said as she looked over to the nearby animal enclosure, where their latest number was feeding the pot-bellied pigs.

 

They’ve gotten two, non-relevant and apparently non-related numbers three days ago. Therefore, the Machine had sent Root to the Central Park Zoo to keep an eye on their first number, Dylan Peters. Twenty-eight, single and obviously big in the illegal animal trading business.

 

Despite her desire to shoot the young man’s kneecaps for making money with smuggling exotic animals (Even a former killer for hire had her limits.), Root didn’t know if he was the victim or the perpetrator yet. So, for the last two days she’d been tailing Peters, taking up the identity of Alex Matthews, the new zookeeper.

 

After having been sidelined for weeks, months even, due to her recovery process, the hacker was happy to be back in the game anyway, without question. Nevertheless, she slowly was becoming impatient now, because for the last two days that she’d been watching Peters, nothing did happen that was worth mentioning. Except for the fact that Root now knew how boring and, at the same time, exhausting it could be to clean up loads of dung every day.

 

“If I have to maintain this cover for a few more days, you can call me dung expert,” the tall brunette complained, eying the pile of goat droppings she’d swept up with mild disgust. _Of all the cover identities I had over the last few years,_ this _seems to be the least enjoyable. Well, maybe except this one time I had to pose as geriatric nurse in a nursing home…Who would’ve thought that old people could be that creepy…?_

 

 _“Well,”_ the Machine replied, _“maybe_ this _will cheer you up: I contacted Dr. Enright and she’s willing to perform the CI surgery on you as soon as you’re ready for it.”_

 

“Oh, that’s good news,” Root said, smiling a bit. “Thank you.”

 

 _“You’re welcome,”_ ScarJo’s deep timbre – the Machine’s new voice as of recently – resounded in the hacker’s good ear. “ _A new cochlear implant will be delievered to your and Sameen’s apartment tomorrow. Of course, you’ll have to redesign the inner section of the CI before it can be implanted, but I’ll guide you through the process. So, no worries.”_

 

“Okay,” Root replied, pleased, and leaned on her broom, resting for a moment, while she still had an eye on their number as low-key as possible. Peters was now busy with feeding the ducks. Quite a few of them were swimming on the water of the little pond near the children’s playground, cackling loudly. Suddenly, Root felt a tug on her left work boot and looked down. One particularly perky young goat with throughout black fur was happily nibbling on the hacker’s shoelaces.

 

 _Great, now I’m goat food_ , Root thought with a shake of her head as she tried to shove the animal away with her booted foot. Turned out the little Nubian buck wasn’t just particularly perky, but extremely stubborn as well. He obviously wasn’t a fan of being shoved too, because the next second he gave an angry bleating, lowered his head and rammed it against the surprised hacker’s shin.

 

“ _Ow_!” Root hissed in pain and took a step back. The buck might’ve just been a few months old, not fully grown yet, but he definitely had a lot of strength. And a hard skull with two tiny, but equally hard horns. “You little asshole,” the hacker cursed through gritted teeth as she whacked the rebellious goat with the besom lightly in return.

 

The buck bleated again and positioned himself a few feet away from Root, staring at her aggressively. Thankfully, the other goats were keeping their distance for now. They were just watching the spectacle in front of them with mild interest.

 

The hacker rubbed her pants covered shin with one hand, her eyes still trained on the lurking animal in annoyance. _This’ll bruise. Great._ For a second, she wished Bear was here to teach this fucking goat some manners.

 

“Listen, you little beast,” Root grumbled. “If you want to live for a while longer, you should stay where you are.”

 

The buck just huffed as if he’d understood Root’s words and stared at his new animal attendant with those creepy eyes that were so characteristic for goats. _Those freaky rectangular pupils._

 

 _“I highly recommend you to refrain from killing this animal, if you want to maintain your cover in this zoo,”_ the Machine’s warning suddenly resounded in Root’s good ear, prompting the hacker to roll her eyes. _Well, I could just taser it, right?._ However, before the tall brunette could answer with a snarky comment, another voice rang out.

 

“Hey, Alex! You need help with the goats?” Peters was watching her from the other side of the enclosure, a slightly worried look on his face.

 

Root put on a fake smile for the number. _So much for being low-key…_ “Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “Everything’s under control, Dylan,” she told him as cheerily as she could through gritted teeth. “Really.”

 

Peters shrugged. “Well, the buck seems to think differently.”

 

Root frowned and whipped her head around. “What-?” The next second the young Nubian buck’s skull was ramming into her groin painfully.

 

 _I fucking hate goats_ , the hacker thought, frustrated, as she went down in agony.

 

 

\----------

 

 

Contrary to her crazy hacker girlfriend, Sameen Shaw was currently happy. She’d been trailing their second number, the 38 years old Cain Diaz, to an MMA gym in Downtown. Diaz was the gym’s owner and one of its instructors at the same time.

 

The Machine had provided Sameen with the information that Diaz had spent six years between Afghanistan and Iraq, serving four tours with the Marines, where he’d held the rank of a Staff Sergeant until his honorable discharge in 2011. Furthermore, he’d been awarded a Silver Star and a Purple Heart for his services. Diaz was an only child and his parents died in a car crash when he’d been 25.

 

Despite his immaculate military record, which Shaw found really impressive, Diaz recently seemed to be involved in some sort of illegal underground fighting. At least, that much their all-seeing ASI had found out. _Maybe the reason why your number’s up, Cain_ , Sameen thought with a barely noticeable shake of her head.

 

Right now the Persian woman let her eyes wander through the dojo named “Team Xtreme”. _How inventive,_ she thought sardonically. Despite the ridiculous name, Shaw really liked this gym immediately. It wasn’t big, but came with all the basic equipment nevertheless. There were punching bags and training mats, a corner for weightlifting, a few treadmills and a boxing ring in the center of the room. It smelled of leather and hard work. Overall, a place Shaw felt quite comfortable with. _I already like this job._

 

The Persian let her gaze roam for a moment longer from the spot, where she was standing by the entry. A few men, presumably in their thirties and early fourties, were engaged in their workout, showing off their muscled bodies. Nothing Shaw hadn’t already seen in her time with the Marines and then the ISA, but she couldn’t deny that some of the well-toned bodies were nice to look at.

 

Regardless of that, Shaw had noticed that they just didn’t do it for her anymore. Not like in the past at least. These days, Sameen preferred Root’s soft curves. And _only_ those. The Persian shook her head at herself slightly and her lips twitched with a tiny smile. _Look at me, it just needs one tall and crazy hacker with a preference for tasers and Artificial Intelligence to make me monogamous._

 

When Shaw walked into the gym finally, her sports bag thrown over her left shoulder, she could feel the lingering gazes most of the men were sending her way. _Looks like female clientage is rare in this dojo._ However, before she could make her way further into the gym, the Persian was suddenly stopped by a bulky man with a shaved head and obviously too much steroids flowing through his veins. He grinned down at Shaw, flashing her a row of perfect teeth and an ego, just as inflated as the rest of his body. _Just wonderful…_

 

“Hey, Beautiful, I think you got lost. The yoga course’s down the street,” Shaved Head said and then let loose a roar of laughter as if he’d made the best joke since the world started. Two of his buddies apparently felt obliged to join in.

 

“Move along, Dwayne,” Sameen said in a monotonous way, eying the hulk in front of her disdainfully. In every gym she came to like there apparently had to be at least _one_ douchebag, who spoiled this place for her. _Is this some kind of a sick joke?_

 

“ _Whoa._ What’s got you so cranky?” Shaved Head asked, still not moving an inch. He didn’t seem to get the hint not to mess with the tiny Persian.

 

Shaw just rolled her eyes. That was the problem with most of these jacked MMA fighters – all muscles, but no brain. One more reason why Sameen would always prefer Root to men like these. _She’s way more clever._

 

“ _Listen_ ,” the former ISA operative growled, staring at the man, who was at least two heads taller than her, defiantly _, “_ you really don’t wanna piss me off. So, move and no one gets hurt.”

 

Shaved Head just gave a rumbling laugh again. Obviously, he couldn’t believe that this tiny woman could kick his ass. “Come on, honey. Relax a bit,” he drawled as he laid one hand on Shaw’s shoulder in an offensive manner.

 

_Dumb move, Dwayne._

 

As fast as lightning Sameen dropped her bag, grabbed the hulk’s wrist and violently twisted it up and around. The resulting cracking sound was like music to the Persian’s ears. A split second later, the douchebag was kneeling on the floor, whimpering in pain while Shaw strained his arm in a mean hold. “Relax, _honey_ ,” the Persian whispered into the man’s ear, her voice saccharine sweet.

 

“You _bitch_!” Shaved Head hissed, his face contorting in pain. He squirmed and struggled in an attempt to get out of Sameen’s hold, but with no success. The other men in the gym had stopped their training and were staring at the spectacle now that was unfolding before their eyes, stunned. Some of them were whistling and jeering. Others were just gaping, their mouths hanging open.

 

“Well, that’s not nice,” the Persian told the man, twisting his arm a little bit more roughly. She grinned slightly when the small move coaxed a yelp out of the big guy. “What shall your buddies think of you, _honey_?” She couldn’t deny that it was fun to play with this hulk. Maybe this would teach him a lesson to never underestimate tiny people again.

 

Shaw eyed Shaved Head’s two buddies. They both seemed to be indecisive about what to do, if they should help their friend or not. The former ISA operative knew that it wouldn’t be a problem for her to kick those dumbheads asses too, if she had to. However, picking up a fight wouldn’t help her actual mission. “Better sit on the fence, guys, or you’re about to get hurt too,” she warned therefore.

 

Before either of them could decide if helping their buddy would actually end with them getting their asses kicked by this tiny but angry Middle Eastern woman, another voice rang through the gym, sounding baritone and powerful – and pissed off.

 

“What’s going on here?!”

 

Sameen looked to the side and saw their number, Diaz, come out of one of the gym’s backrooms, a white towel thrown over one muscular shoulder, making his way towards them with powerful strides. The MMA instructor was about six feet tall and his whole demeanor was that of someone who’s better not to be messed with. From the way the other men were backing off, when the dark haired instructor passed them, it was obvious that he was in charge and well respected in this gym.

 

Shaved Head was still kneeling on the floor, whimpering in pain because of the way Sameen was twisting his arm expertly. This wasn’t exactly the way she’d wanted to introduce herself to their number, but it wasn’t really bad either.

 

“Well, Dwayne here is learning how to mind his own business right now and not to touch people if they don’t wanna be touched,” Shaw answered nonchalantly. “ _Right_ , Dwayne?” She patted his shoulder with the hand that wasn’t busy at the moment.

 

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Shaved Head spat out between gritted teeth and Sameen rolled her eyes.

 

“He’s not a fast learner,” she told Diaz with a light smirk and a shrug of one shoulder.

 

The number eyed her in confusion for a second, but then turned towards the kneeling douchebag. “That’s the third time you cause trouble in my gym, Parsons,” Diaz growled, fuming. “Get up, get your pals and get the hell outta here!” He looked at Sameen. “But first, you apologize to the lady.”

 

Shaw cringed a bit at being called a lady, but was impressed – for a second time this day – by the noble gesture nevertheless.

 

The douchebag named Parsons gave a grumble at that, but Shaw simply twisted his wrist a bit more, making him yelp in pain again. In the end, his last remaining brain cell actually seemed to work, because he gave in eventually and managed to squeeze out an apology, even though somewhat reluctant. _Smart move, Dwayne._

 

Shaw let go of the hulk then and he got up as fast as he could, clutching his sprained wrist. With a last grueling look at the Persian, he hurried out of the gym, his two buddies trailing behind him. _Bye bye, dumbheads._

 

“If I see you shitheads in here again I’ll kick your asses to the other side of the Atlantic!” Diaz yelled after them threateningly. There was no doubt that he’d do exactly that. Then, he turned to the other people standing around. “Show’s over. Get back to your workout!”

 

A few seconds later, the gym looked as if nothing unusual had happened here and Shaw gave a low whistle. “Wow. You surely run a tight ship,” she said appreciatively.

 

Diaz turned back toward her and tilted his head to one side a bit. “Well, I’ve got the impression you’re not so bad at this yourself,” he replied approvingly.

 

The former ISA agent shrugged. “If people don’t respect you, you teach them respect,” she simply stated.

 

Diaz nodded. “A woman after my taste,” he answered, his lips forming into a small smirk. He then held out his hand and Sameen shook it. “Cain Diaz,” he introduced himself.

 

“Sameen. Sameen Hayes,” Shaw answered with a light smile.

 

“Nice to meet you, Sameen,” Diaz said. His gaze fell on the tattoo on the inside of Shaw’s right forearm, a Caduceus with the letters ‘U.S.M.C.’ across the top. “You’re a Marine?”

 

The Persian nodded. “Former Marine. Two tours, mostly Iraq.”

 

The number looked impressed. “I was in the Marines too, before I opened this gym. Four tours in Afghanistan and Iraq,” he explained. Facts Shaw already knew. But she had to act like these were new information to her, for the mission’s sake.

 

“Oh, really?” she asked therefore, feigning surprise. “That’s cool, mate.”

 

“Yea,” Diaz agreed, then added, “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

 

“Hardly surprising. I went from LA to NY a few weeks ago ‘cause of a job offer,” Sameen explained, rattling off her cover story. “Was looking for a new gym to keep up the training. I was told that yours is the best around here.”

 

The MMA instructor nodded proudly. “You’ve been told right. We’ve got classes in Muay Thai, Muay Thai Boran, Krav Maga and MMA,” he explained. “Which one do you prefer?”

 

Shaw shrugged again. “All of them,” she replied nonchalantly. It wasn’t a lie.

 

Diaz’ eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Uhm… okay.” If he wasn’t impressed before, he definitely was now.

 

“Maybe we can spar a few rounds and you tell me what course I should choose,” Sameen suggested.

 

The number pondered this for a few seconds. “Actually, you’d have to make an appointment for that,” he explained. “But for a Marine buddy,” he continued with a sincere smile, “I’ll make an exception.”

 

Shaw nodded approvingly, returning the smile. “Thanks, mate.” She grabbed her sports bag from the floor and shouldered it once more. “Where can I…?”

 

“Oh,” Diaz said, “you can change in the locker rooms.” He pointed to the back of the gym with one thumb. “Over there.”

 

“Thanks,” Sameen replied. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With a last small smile, the Machine’s Primary Asset went to the gym’s back. _First part of the mission successfully accomplished._

 

A few moments later, Shaw threw her sports bag on one of the benches in the women’s dressing room. _They_ actually _have a women’s dressing room. Wow. Welcome to the 21th century_ , Sameen thought approvingly while she extracted a black long sleeved shirt from her bag _._ She just liked this gym better and better.

 

Given the fact that Sameen was the only woman at the MMA gym right now, she was all alone in the locker room, which gave her the opportunity to have a little chat with Root. After putting the earpiece into her right ear, the Persian tapped it once to activate the comlink. The next second she could hear her girlfriend breathing over the line.

 

“Hey, Root,” Shaw greeted, pulling the shirt over her head. “How’s it hangin’?”

 

 _“Just fine, Sameen,”_ came the hacker’s short reply.

 

The Persian frowned while she changed from jeans to more comfortable training pants. Root sounded far from fine, but rather strained, her breathing slightly labored. _Sounds like she’s in pain._

 

“Root? You okay?” Shaw asked, a tad worried now.

 

_“Yep.”_

 

A pause.

 

“Root, tell me what’s wrong.” _You’ll never know with this crazy chick…_

 

_“Nothing, really…”_

 

“Root…”

 

Another pause. Then a huff on the hacker’s side of the line. _“Okay, you got me... I might’ve been in a little bit of trouble-“_

 

 _I knew it._ “What happened, Root?” Sameen cut her off. “You need backup? How’s the number?” In her head, the Persian already went through different scenarios what could’ve happened. Because in Root’s language the word trouble could mean everything from _“I messed up a line in my coding and now I have to search for the bug for days”_ to _“This is the end of the world and I’m about to die right now”_. Everything was possible with this crazy woman.

 

A moment later, Shaw heard a sound in her earpiece that could’ve been a laugh. Her frown deepened. “Root, talk to me. Are you hurt?”

 

 _“Well,”_ the hacker replied, _“the number’s still fine. So, no worries, Sameen. And me… Well, I can’t say I’m entirely unharmed.”_ She sighed. _“But it’s more a case of hurt pride right now.”_

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. _Why does everything have to be so complicated with this woman?_ “Just tell me already.”

 

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, after a beat, _“I got rammed. By a buck.”_

 

The line was completely silent for a few seconds. Then, Sameen began to laugh, not derisively or sarcastically, but a real laugh. “A _fucking goat_ knocked you out?” the former Marine asked between laughs. _Miss I-smile-at-you-in-a-creepy-manner-while-I-shoot-you-in-the-head defeated by a tiny hoofed animal? Fucking hilarious!_

 

 _“Yea. Very funny. Let’s all have a laugh now,”_ Root grumbled poutingly.

 

“So-sorry, Root” Sameen apologized, but continued to laugh nevertheless. Then she went earnest all at once, as one thought crossed her mind. “You didn’t _shoot_ the buck, _did_ you?”

 

 _“No,”_ came Root’s sour reply, _“I_ didn’t _shoot it. Though I considered it for a moment,”_ she grumbled. _“The little hell beast is fine and is most likely telling his bleating relatives proudly the story of how he robbed me of the capability to have any good feeling in my lady parts ever again.”_

 

Shaw couldn’t suppress a snorting laugh at that. “You telling me this little animal rammed you in the crotch?”

 

There was a huff on the other side of the line. _“Well,_ Shaw _,”_ Root answered with a growl in her voice, _“let’s see if you find this funny still the next time you want to have sex with me.”_

 

_Oh. Crap._

 

Sameen sobered up immediately, grimacing slightly. Root calling her ‘Shaw’ these days normally meant that the hacker was annoyed with her. And that sometimes ended with Root giving her the silent treatment for days and Shaw sleeping on the couch for a couple of nights. Nothing the Persian wanted to provoke right now.

 

“ _Shit_ , Root,” she muttered under her breath, “I shouldn’t have laughed.”

 

The hacker just hummed angrily.

 

 _Dammit woman._ “I’m sorry, okay?”

 

Another hum.

 

“I’ll make it up to you, alright?” _Come on, don’t be mad anymore._

 

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. _“Alright,”_ Root finally agreed, despite still not sounding like her usual perky self. After a beat. _“I have to go back playing zookeeper now. See you at home.”_ Then the line went dead.

 

Shaw just stood in the middle of the locker room with a frown on her face, feeling slightly dumbfounded. _Well, that could’ve went better…_ She shook her head. Root wasn’t in the best mood since she’d gotten this number at the zoo. However, Sameen tried not to hold it against her. After all, she knew from personal experience that they all had good days and not so good days. Her and Root had went through so much shit in the past few years that it was a wonder that they both still functioned… _Well, ‘normally’ isn’t the right term, is it?_ Shaw thought with a small smirk as she went to go back to the gym’s main training room.

 

When she finally returned to the MMA instructor, who’d waited for her on one of the training mats, Sameen gave an apologizing shrug. “Sorry. Had to make an important call.”

 

“No problem,” Diaz replied, tossing her a pair of black grappling gloves and a head guard, already dressed in his own gear.

 

Sameen pulled on the gloves, but not the head protection. When the MMA instructor looked at her quizzically, she just shrugged. “I’ve been in enough fights to know how to keep my head away from your fists.”

 

The number hesitated. “You sure?”

 

“Yea,” Sameen replied, already getting into a fighting stance, her gloved fists raised. “Besides, I’m sure you won’t go all berserk on me.”

 

“Yea? How do you know?” Diaz asked while getting in position for their sparring session, a mischievous grin on his face.

 

“Well, you need me physically intact if you want me to visit one of your courses on a regular basis,” Sameen replied.

 

“Mh, figures.” The MMA instructor nodded, still smirking. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

Shaw tilted her head to one side slightly. “Shoot.”

 

“Why did you call this douchebag ‘Dwayne’? His name’s Brendon Parsons.”

 

The Persian shrugged. “He reminded me of ‘The Rock’. Just a dumber version.”

 

Diaz laughed, his brown eyes flashing with amusement, while he shook his head. “I already like you, Sameen.”

 

Shaw just smiled back.

 

_Second part of the mission accomplished._

 

 

\----------

 

 

When Shaw came back to their apartment two hours later, she found Root sitting on the dark brown couch in their living room. She was balancing her computer on her lap and typing away with her left hand while she scratched Bear, who was resting peacefully at her side on the couch, between the ears with her right hand. The Persian was quite amazed how her girlfriend could coordinate these two different movements without any obvious problems. Well, Root was simply… special.

 

“Hey, Sweetie,” the hacker said in acknowledgement while looking up from her laptop, her mood apparently better now than it had been two hours prior. Bear wagged his tail happily at the sight of his favorite tiny grumpy lady, but didn’t make any attempt to get off the couch to greet Sameen properly. Clearly, he was just too contended with his cozy place on the couch, getting his ears scratched on top of that.

 

“Hey,” Sameen said, followed by a muttered ‘traitor’ in Bear’s direction. Root just smirked at her knowingly and the Persian rolled her eyes slightly while she dropped her sports bag and shed her jacket. Then she turned her gaze on the hacker again, crossing her arms over her chest. “You hung up on me earlier.” It was a statement, but the accusation was implied.

 

Root ducked her head, a guilty look on her face suddenly. _Damn, figures that she doesn’t forget something like that._ “Sorry,” she murmured, gazing at Shaw through her lashes. “I was quite pissed off then.” She sighed. “I… shouldn’t have done that.”

 

Sameen shrugged. “No harm done.” She tilted her head a bit. “At least not to me,” she added and vaguely gestured at Root’s lap with a slight jerk of her chin. “Does it still hurt?”

 

The hacker just hummed, moving the computer off her lap and onto the coffee table. Shaw cocked one eyebrow at the sight of the bag of frozen peas resting between Root’s thighs.

 

“You know we have ice packs for that, do you?”

 

The hacker gave a shrug at that and picked up the packet of frozen peas, lifting it a bit while getting into a slightly more comfortable position with her head resting against the couch’s back. She then settled the improvised ice pack back on her crotch, sighing as the coolness crept through the fabric of her tracksuit pants in a pleasant way. “I think I’ll be good,” she answered finally. “In a year or so…”

 

Shaw just shook her head as she settled herself at the hacker’s left side on the couch. _This woman’s a little drama queen sometimes._ “Trust me,” she said, “this won’t take that long to heal.”

 

“Is this your professional opinion?” Root asked.

 

“Yep.”

 

The hacker tilted her head to one side and looked at Shaw with a smirk on her face then. “Want to take a look to be sure?”

 

“You told me that sex isn’t an option right now just two hours ago,” Shaw reminded her with a deadpan look.

 

_Damn. Right. Fuck._

 

Root’s face turned into a frown. “Well, then obviously I’ve got no other option than to suffer in silence and die of sexual frustration eventually,” she groaned with feigned desperation. At least Shaw assumed that it was feigned…

 

The former ISA operative rolled her eyes in reply once more, though a tiny smirk was playing around her lips. _Yep, drama queen._ She opened her mouth to communicate her thoughts to Root when she suddenly noticed something green behind her girlfriend’s left ear. “Hold on a second,” the Persian muttered and reached out to pick up that green… something. She held the tiny particle between her thumb and her forefinger, staring at it in confusion for a few seconds. _Is that…?_ “Duckweed?” Sameen asked finally.

 

Her discovery didn’t seem to surprise Root, because she just shrugged. “I took a shower before you came home, but this stuff seems to stick on me like glue.”

 

Shaw was still confused. “You took a swim in a pond or something?”

 

“Yea,” the hacker answered with a tiny smile, “something like that.” She rubbed behind her left ear absentmindedly. “After my unfortunate incident with this evil buck, I continued to keep an eye on Peters. Apparently, he sold a bunch of armadillos instead of pangolins to one buyer in Chinatown.” She shrugged. “Obviously the scales of pangolins are highly coveted in the Asian impotence treatment sector.”

 

“Yes, they are. Sadly,” Sameen agreed. “People still buy this stuff, even though it’s total bullshit.”

 

Root nodded. “Yea. Anyway, the buyer wasn’t happy about the armadillos he got. So, he went to Peters' workplace at the zoo today. Tried to stab him to death with a nice little knife he brought with him. Right beside the children’s playground.” She shook her head in mild astonishment. “You don’t believe how many children are at the zoo on a nice sunny Saturday morning.”

 

Shaw’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t tell me you shot someone in front of little kids.” Some things even a former assassin didn’t do.

 

The taller woman knitted her brows, looking at her girlfriend indignantly. “I’m not _that_ crazy.” Sameen just looked at her as if it was hard for her to believe that. “Well,” Root shrugged, “it wasn’t the best place to shoot someone and I’ve lost my taser when this hell beast knocked me down. So, I tackled this guy that was about to stick a knife into Peters and we fell into the pond.”

 

“Did you drown the guy?” Sameen asked.

 

“Nope,” The hacker replied, “sadly not. I just left him unconscious for Fusco to deal with him.”

 

Shaw nodded. “And the number?”

 

“Had him arrested too. I mean, he’s an animal dealer. There are limits.” She turned to the Belgian Malinois, who still was resting at her right side on the couch. “Right, Bear?” The dog woofed one time as if he wanted to express his agreement and Root turned back to Shaw, beaming. “See? He agrees with me.”

 

Sameen shook her head, good-natured this time. _Aren’t we a crazy bunch?_ She turned her body more towards Root then, putting one arm around the hacker’s shoulders. “Sounds like you had one hell of a day, huh?”

 

“Yea,” the taller woman agreed, but smiled at Shaw nevertheless. “But you know what?”

 

“What?”

 

“This day ends here with you. On the couch in our apartment. That’s not so bad.”

 

Sameen shook her head lightly again. “You’re such a sap.”

 

Root smiled at her fondly. “I know.” After a beat, she asked, “How did it go with _your_ number today?”

 

Shaw shrugged her left shoulder. “I think I've made an impression on Diaz. Not long and he’ll invite me to the underground fightings.”

 

Root hummed in reply. “You’re careful, are you?”

 

 _Says the one with the reckless streak_ , the Persian thought, but answered nevertheless, “Yes, I am. You know that I can take care of myself.”

 

“I know,” the hacker muttered. “But… please be careful anyway,” she said softly and Shaw couldn’t do anything other than to nod.

 

“Yes.”

 

After that, they both fell silent, just enjoying the comforting presence of the other woman for a bit. And if they ended up with Root’s head on Shaw’s right shoulder, it was just because this way it was more comfortable for both of them. They weren’t cuddling. _Nope._ And if Sameen’s hand ended up in Root’s chestnut waves, playing with a few strands between her fingertips, it was just because this way she had something to do while sitting there on the couch.

 

They remained like this for about twenty minutes and Shaw had just dosed off when Root’s concerned voice woke her up again eventually.

 

“Sameen..."

 

"Yea?"

 

"I think my lady parts are frozen.”

 

The Persian just rolled her eyes.

 

_Idiot._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys. I hope you had fun with our two lovely idiots :D In the next chapter we’ll dive into the world of underground MMA fighting and the question whether Cain Diaz is the victim or the perpetrator. Either way, jealous Root is coming your way… Stay tuned!


	12. Hit me with your best shot, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw and her latest number have some bonding time, causing Root to act like a jealous girlfriend. Like a jealous, crazy and former killer for hire girlfriend…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mixture of more serious topics and some funny ones, maybe a bit crackfic-ish near the end. Just read for yourself. I hope you like it :) (All mistakes are mine.) 
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated ;)

 

To say that Sameen Shaw was having a bad day would’ve been the understatement of the year. Currently, she was bound to a chair in the middle of a dusty storeroom, thick ropes around her legs, arms and chest, as she slipped in and out of consciousness. Her nose was broken and caked in blood, which made it difficult to breathe properly, and her head was pounding with pain. Her right shoulder was dislocated and hurt like a bitch, even more because of the weird angle her arm was bound behind her back. Above that, her face as much as her whole torso were covered in bruises and scrapes.

 

However, _that_ wasn’t the real problem here, no. Shaw was used to pain. Her level of pain tolerance was as high as the Mount Everest and had always been more of a pain thirst than anything else. She could endure an incredibly high amount of physical discomfort without batting an eyelash. Even Samaritan had been forced to resort to forms of psychological torture in his attempt to break her, knowing fully well that inflicting physical pain on Sameen Shaw wouldn’t have had the desired effect.

 

No, the _real_ problem right now was that the small Persian wasn’t alone in this room. Because right behind her, there was one familiar Perky Psycho, bound to a chair as well and much likely in a similar physical condition as Shaw. Their backs were turned to each other, so that the ex-ISA agent couldn’t see Root, but only could hear her labored breathing. The hacker obviously was in pain – and right now, there was nothing Sameen could’ve done to help her. At least not, while this fucking drug was running through her body still, leaving her on the verge of passing out.

 

Shaw didn’t know what they’d given her exactly, but she knew that the substance was making it really difficult for her to think straight – or even stay awake, at least. _Maybe those fuckers slipped a roofie in my water._ She felt quite drowsy and coordinating her limbs seemed like an impossible task. _Dammit._

 

“Root…?” Shaw’s voice was muffled because of her broken nose, her girlfriend’s name somewhat slurred because of the drugs in her system. Nevertheless, the hacker had heard her.

 

“I’m here, Sameen,” she replied, searching for the Persian’s hands with her own where they were cuffed together between their backs.

 

The smaller agent felt Root grabbing two of her fingers – more the hacker couldn’t reach because of the weird angle – as she gave a low chuckle at her girlfriend’s response. Talking felt quite difficult, but Shaw mumbled a reply, nevertheless. “Yea… Wh’re else woul’ you be… huh? ‘ways stuck on me… like a shadow…” _God, I’m sounding like I’m drunk…_

 

“Yea,” Root agreed, a light smile playing around her lips despite the unpleasant situation they were in, “and you _like_ it…”

 

Sameen just hummed. “To be… ho-honest?” She grimaced slightly at her struggle with the words, summoning all her willpower to form a somewhat coherent sentence. “Right n-now… I don’t really like… that you’re stuck ‘ere with me, Root.” _Hurt and defenseless. Me, not able to protect you._ _Damn bad feeling._

 

The hacker gave a short, shaky laugh at this. A year ago, she would’ve answered with something along the lines of _‘Didn’t know you cared, Shaw’_ , in a way that would’ve been located between teasing and fondness, mixed with some insecurities about the answer to the question if a former qovernmental assassin with an Axis II personality disorder really could care about a reformed killer for hire. However, as it had turned out, the fact that Samen Shaw cared about Root was as certain as the sun rising in the east every morning. _Lucky me._

 

Root’s laugh turned into coughing a second later, and she grimaced in pain as the movement rattled her aching chest. _Maybe one or two cracked ribs?_ Then, she winced as her grimacing reminded her painfully of her bruised left cheek. “Like it or not, Sameen,” she wheezed, finally, “we’re in this together.” After a pause, “Don’t worry, Sweetie. This is not my first rodeo. You’re not the only one who can take a little beating.”

 

 _Not the point._ Shaw shook her head slightly while she looked up at the ceiling, where one single light bulb illuminated the room. The former ISA operative noticed that her vision was slightly blurred. She blinked a few times, but nothing changed. _Damn._

 

“I _know_ that,” Sameen finally muttered. It was true. Root’s pain threshold was almost as high as her own, and although she didn’t seem to get a thrill out of the experience of pain like Sameen did, the Persian had seen the hacker handle some amount of physical discomfort without losing her perky attitude or that crazy smile on her face in the past. Nevertheless, even Root had her breaking point… “But maybe… I don’t like it if anyone else beside me is kickin’ my girlfriend’s ass,” Sameen added after a beat.

 

There was a quiet chuckle on Root’s side, followed by a moment of silence between them. Then, “Did you… did you just call me your _girlfriend_?” The hacker sounded honestly surprised.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. _Typically Root…_ “Can we… concentrate on the… ‘mportant facts here?” The words weren’t as slurred as a few minutes before. Nevertheless, the drugs floating through the former Marine’s body were still making it quite difficult for her to form a coherent sentence. _And that’s why you should never do drugs, kids._

 

“But that _is_ an important fact, Sameen,” Root argued, sounding quite cheerful for someone, who was beaten, bruised and bound to a chair. She gave Shaw’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’ve never called me your girlfriend before.”

 

Sameen sighed. _Damn this woman._ She just knew she would never hear the end of it now. _Well, if we live that long…_ However, Root was right. Shaw may have thought of the hacker as her girlfriend for a while now, but she’d never actually used the term until now. Maybe because she hadn’t been sure of how to call this thing that was going on between her and Root.

 

Sure, they’ve lived together for a while now, they’ve slept in the same bed most of the time, they had sex regularly and they went on missions for the Machine together. They would kill for each other and they would die for the other one. And that wasn’t some romanticized Romeo-and-Juliet-crap. No, it was the simple and brutal truth of their… _well_ , relationship. At least that’s what other people – _normal people_ – would call something like that.

 

But, _normal_ wasn’t a word Shaw would’ve used to describe herself or Root. So, terms like _relationship_ or _girlfriends_ always had seemed kind of unfitting for them in the Persian’s opinion. _At least until now…_ Maybe calling Root her girlfriend, saying it out loud, was Shaw’s way of finally acknowledging the special bond that was undeniable between them.

 

“Well… _Pain in my ass_ or _significant annoyance…_ didn’t seem appr’priate… given the circumstances,” the former Marine grumblingly joked, while she fought the urge to close her eyes just for a minute.  

 

Root gave a low chuckle at Shaw’s words and squeezed her fingers lightly again. “Given the circumstances? You mean you wanted me to hear you use the word just one time in case we die here tonight?” The Persian just rolled her eyes at the feigned joyful tone of the hacker’s voice. “And here I thought I was sappy enough for both of us, Sameen,” the hacker added. Despite her teasing tone, Root was fully aware of the seriousness of their situation. _Beaten, bound and weaponless. That’s usually not good._

 

“Oh, shut up, Root,” Shaw muttered, but there was no real anger behind her words. She sighed, then asked, “How are you?”

 

“Just peachy,” Root replied, again with faked cheerfulness. “You?”

 

“Same,” came the former Marine’s short answer. They both knew it was a lie. After a pause, she said, “They’ll come back soon… We’ve got to find a way to… get rid of those ropes ‘n’ cuffs.” She blinked a few times, trying to fight the upcoming nausea. Add the blurred vision and the killer headache and you’ve got quite a few symptoms of a concussion. _Great…_ There were things even a trained operative couldn’t win a fight against.

 

“I totally agree,” the hacker answered and wiggled her hands a little bit against the restraints, the sudden movement sending a new wave of pain through Sameen’s dislocated shoulder. The smaller woman couldn’t suppress a groan as white hot agony seared through her arm and the right side of her body.

 

Root abruptly stilled her hands, not wanting to hurt Sameen further. “Sorry,” she muttered an apology. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been a piece of cake for Shaw to get out of the cuffs and the rest of the restraints, that much the hacker knew. However, her favorite Persian seemed to be in a bad shape, her injuries and the drugs taking their toll on her body and brain.

 

The taller woman tried a different approach then, leaning against the ropes around her chest a little more, using the tiny bit of maneuvering room she had. _Maybe I can get rid of these bonds at least…_ A split second later, searing pain rushed through Root’s thorax, making her gasp and see black dots before her eyes. _Yep, definitely one or two cracked ribs. Fuck._ The hacker wondered briefly, if her bad luck with being shot in the shoulder had been replaced by a recurring misfortune of having her ribs bruised. _Well_ , at least she hadn’t been shot this time. Yet.

 

“You… ‘kay?” Shaw sounded as if she’d pass out any moment now, her words slurred and barely audible. It made Root feel quite uneasy.

 

“I’m fine,” the hacker wheezed out, despite the fire burning in her chest. She swallowed, trying to calm the sudden panic she felt wash over her like a wave. _We’ve been in worse situations, right?_

 

“Any way to… contact Big Eye in the Sky?”

 

Root shook her head. “No earpiece, no phone.” For the umptieth time this evening, the hacker mentally kicked herself for not having a new CI in her head yet. At least, this way she would’ve been able to communicate with the Machine. “No surveillance cameras.” She sighed. “She can’t help us right now,” the hacker concluded. She couldn’t help the sinking feeling of dread that flooded her at the thought of the shitty situation they were in. Nevertheless, she tried to keep her voice casual and confident. “But we’ll find a way to get out this. Right?”

 

No answer.

 

“Sameen?”

 

Root gently squeezed the smaller woman’s fingers behind her back. No response. Apparently, her girlfriend had blacked out finally.

 

The hacker swallowed. Hard.

 

_Fuck. We’re screwed._

 

 

\-----------

 

 

_72 hours earlier_

 

“Do you think that Sameen would tolerate purple curtains?” Root asked the Machine in a hushed tone as she ascended the fire escape to the fifth floor of a brick building in Newark, New Jersey. It was past eight in the evening and already dark outside, the street lamps illuminating the sidewalk below. A deep autumn chill hung in the air and the hacker tugged at the collar of her black grey biker jacket, internally cursing herself for a second for not having tied a scarf around her neck when she’d left the apartment.

 

 _“Given my prior observations, I don’t think so,”_ the ASI’s deep timbre resounded over the comlink. _“Why do you ask that? Do you want to redecorate the apartment?”_

 

Root hummed affirmatively. “Just the bedroom, though. I mean, purple curtains would go very well together with the purple rug in front of the bed.” Sameen had eyed the shag rug with clear disgust once in a while since the hacker had brought the item from the subway into their apartment, but had tolerated it for her girlfriend’s sake. Maybe she would have some tolerance for purple curtains, too.

 

_“Do I have to remind you of the time at the furniture store you suggested to buy purple sheets?”_

 

Root’s face screwed up slightly at the memory. Shaw had threatened to slap her silly on the spot and then strangle her with the sheets. And not in the fun way. It had been one of these rare occurences, where Root’s instinct of self-preservation actually had kicked in. The pack with the purple sheets had been out of her hands within seconds.

 

“I remember. Vividly…” The hacker sighed. “So, no new curtains,” she mumbled, a slight pout on her face.

 

 _“Well, no need for disappointment just yet, my sweet Analog Interface,”_ the Machine said, sounding quite wicked suddenly. _“I’ve run a few simulations, and the results show me that there’s a big chance of Primary Asset Shaw agreeing on purple curtains if you ask her right after your next sexual encounter, during which you’ll be, of course, really, really nice to her.”_

 

The hacker grinned broadly at this. Luckily, her run-in with the goat from hell a few days ago hadn’t left any lasting damage to her private parts. The sore feeling was gone, so sex was definitely back on her to-do list. “I think I can manage that,” Root replied, her voice more hushed now, because she’d almost reached her destination at the fifth floor. “Thanks for the advice, Big Sis.”

 

 _“You’re welcome.”_ A few seconds later, She told Root, _“You’re there.”_

 

The hacker stopped in the shadows beside a big round-arched window. She could see the light coming from the inside of the apartment and the murmur of hushed voices reached her good ear.

 

 _“I have access to Fletcher’s laptop, webcam and microphone. There are three more men in the room with our number,”_ the Machine whispered in Root’s earpiece as the dark haired woman grabbed her Smith &Wesson M&P Compact from the back waistband of her black jeans, a silencer already attached to its muzzle.

 

“Got it,” the hacker replied. As it had turned out, her latest number, Dennis Fletcher, an assembly line worker at a local automobile factory in his mid-forties, was part of a four-person terrorist cell. Apparently, their ultimate goal seemed to be the assassination of Newark’s mayor, who’d been involved in some hefty corruption scandal. Something Fletcher and his three mates, as good citizens, couldn’t tolerate. So, they’d decided that the mayor had to die in an explosion, caused by their homemade bomb. _Lovely._

 

The Machine had sent Root to Fletcher’s apartment in The Brick City, where all four men had gathered this evening, to stop him and his little neighborhood terrorist group from putting their plan into action. Not without assuring Shaw that this was something, Root could handle alone. The Persian was still busy with the Mixed Martial Arts trainer, whose number came up a while ago. Still, they weren’t sure if Cain Diaz was the victim or the perp – or both – and Shaw’s patience was running out fast.

 

The hacker smirked a little as she fetched a flash grenade from the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder. _It’s been a while since I’ve used one of these._ “Ready when you are,” Root said, feeling her pulse quicken in anticipation. _That’s way better than dealing with evil goats._

 

_“Turning the power circuit off in three… two… one.”_

 

The lights inside the apartment went out and Root acted within seconds. One well aimed hit with the butt of her gun and the window was broken. The hacker threw the grenade and it went off with a bang inside the room, blinding the four men temporarily. Then, she hopped through the window, careful of the remaining shards of glass, and whipped out her second gun from the waistband of her pants, right in time with the lights coming back on.

 

“Party time,” Root murmured with a smirk on her face as she kneecapped the four disoriented men with precise shots. It was like shooting fish in a barrel and the hacker almost felt pity for them. _Almost._ It had been a while since she’d been double wielding her Smith  & Wesson’s and the former killer for hire was enjoying the feeling of the recoil in her hands. Only a few things in her life gave her such a rush. Of course, one grumpy, but beautiful Persian woman was on top of that list.

 

Seconds later, the four wanna-be-terrorists lay on the floor, bleeding and moaning in pain. They definitely weren’t pros, weren’t even armed. The hacker almost felt guilty, that she’d shot four unarmed men. Again, _almost._ She might be playing for the good guys now, but some people just deserved a nice kneecapping.

 

Root looked down at the groaning men with a faux apologetic look and a shrug of her shoulders. “Sorry, boys. No party for you.” She put her guns back into the waistband of her jeans and took a last look around the room on her way out. Pictures of the mayor and construction plans for a homemade bomb were attached to a wall. Plastic explosives and other items for the happy bomb builder were scattered on a table in one corner. The forensics would have a field day at the sight of the evidence. _Amateurs_ , Root thought with a shake of her head while she climbed back through the window.

 

 _“Local authorities are on their way,”_ the Machine informed her Analog Interface.

 

“Good,” the hacker replied as she went down the fire escape, taking two steps at once. No time for being detected by nosy neighbors. “Surveillance cameras?”

 

_“They’ll have a malfunction.”_

 

“You’re the best.”

 

_“I know.”_

 

Root gave a smirk at that. Low self-confidence definitely wasn’t one of the ASI’s problems these days.

 

When the hacker was sure that she’d brought enough distance between herself and the place where she’d left these four kneecapped dumbasses, she stopped her escape and hid in the shadows of some bushes that grew on a green area. She was far away enough to not be linked with the gunshots immediately, but near enough to have an eye on the crime scene until local authorities arrived. She doubted that any of the guys she’d kneecapped just minutes ago, was able to stand let alone walk away. But you never know, right?

 

The hacker made herself as invisible as possible by sinking further into the shadows, when some neighbors and a few passersby gathered on the sidewalk in front of the building, talking agitatedly to each other, trying to find out what had just happened. Although Root had used silencers, the shots would’ve been loud enough to be heard down on the street. Not to mention the breaking of the window. And the flash grenade… That hadn’t been exactly subtle.

 

 _Well, subtle has never been my strongest quality. And it was definitely fun_ , the hacker thought with a small smirk on her lips.

 

A few minutes later, the local police showed up. Root decided that her job here was done and it was time for her departure. While she walked the few blocks back to where she’d left her motorcycle, she pondered to call Shaw. Tell her that her mission went well, see what Sameen was up to. Maybe she was lucky and her favorite Persian was done working her number for the night. _And then we could work on a few other things_ …

 

The hacker hadn’t seen much of Shaw the past few days. Not since Cain Diaz’ number had come up. Sameen had been to the MMA studio a few times, under the guise of training, trying to pry more information from Diaz as subtle as possible to get any clue why they’d gotten his number. Most part of the remaining days, she’d spent with tailing him, but nothing extraordinary had happened so far, leaving Shaw kinda frustrated.

 

The Machine had informed the agent that Diaz participated in some illegal underground fightings regularly, but since she’d started tailing him, he hadn’t went to a fight. And he hadn’t invited her to the fight club yet either, despite her hints that she was in need of money and wasn’t completely new to the world of underground fighting. So, Shaw was forced to maintain her cover for a while longer and hope that she’d find out if Diaz was the victim or the perp soon. Hopefully, before her patience run out.

 

“Can you tell me where Shaw is at the moment?” Root asked the Machine.

 

_“Central Sports Bar in Midtown Manhattan.”_

 

“Uh?” The hacker frowned slightly. “Okay…”

 

It wasn’t unusual for Shaw to frequent a bar to unwind after an especially stressfull day, having a beer or a scotch and watching some sports. Sometimes she’d take Root with her, sometimes she’d go alone. The hacker accepted that her girlfriend needed some time to herself occasionally.

 

However, they hadn’t really spent some quality time together in a while and Root couldn’t help to feel a bit neglected by her girlfriend going out without her. Or without calling her at least.

 

“Is she still working the number?” the dark haired woman asked.

 

 _“Yes. Cain Diaz is with her at the bar.”_ Obviously, there were security cameras around.

 

Root hummed. “What’re they doing?” She tried to keep her voice casual, despite the feeling of annoyance welling up inside of her.

 

 _“Chatting, mostly. Having a few beers, watching the Giants versus the Dallas Cowboys,”_ the ASI informed her Analog Interface.

 

Root raised one of her brows. “I hope it’s her chatty cover identity who’s having a beer with our number…”

 

 _“Well, I’ve got no audio,”_ the ASI piped up. _“But it looks like they have fun_.”

 

Wrong thing to say.

 

The hacker stopped dead in her tracks and fumbled her phone from her jeans pocket. “Show me the surveillance footage,” she demanded.

 

_“I don’t think that Primary Asset Shaw will be pleased that you’re spying on her.”_

 

The hacker gave an annoyed smirk at that. “Talk about the pot calling the keetle black.” After a moment, she added, “And for the other saying: What she doesn’t know…” She trailed off and looked right into one of the surveillance cameras in front of a building she was passing. “Footage. _Now_ ,” Root repeated insistently, waving her phone at the blinking red light of the camera.

 

A second later, a stream appeared on the screen, showing the Persian agent sitting at a bar with her number, Cain Diaz. For a moment, the hacker had a strong déjà vu of Shaw’s… date with Tomas Koroa. _Yuk._

 

Root watched Shaw and the MMA trainer chatting animatedly for a moment. The footage wasn’t high resolution, but it was clear enough for the hacker to see that Shaw’s posture seemed to be relaxed. It definitely wasn’t her I-don’t-wanna-be-here-but-I-have-to-act-like-a-functional-member-of-society-for-once attitude. _What the hell?_

 

 _“Your behavior shows clear signs of jealousy,”_ the Machine told her Analog Interface.

 

Root looked up at the blinking red light of the surveillance camera and raised her brows. “Me? Jealous?” She gave a low chuckle. Then, “ _Hell yes_ , I am!” A few passersby gave her funny looks. The hacker glared at them, but stuffed her phone back into her jeans pocket and continued her way back to her motorcycle nonetheless. One stay at the funny farm had been enough for a lifetime.

 

 _“Why are you jealous?”_ the ASI asked.

 

“I don’t think you’d understand this”, Root mumbled.

 

 _“Au contraire,”_ the Machine replied. _“I may not feel jealousy myself, like a human being does. However, I’ve watched enough people to know a thing or two about this kind of feeling.”_ There was a little pause. Then, the ASI continued, _“What I don’t understand, is, why_ you’re _feeling jealous right now. My statistics show that Primary Asset Shaw is spending most of her lifetime with you these days. Furthermore, she hasn’t slept with anyone else besides you since you’ve tied her to that kitchen chair and used your tongue to-“_

 

“Okay,” Root cut the Machine off in annoyance, “can we _not_ talk about Sameen’s and my sex life right now?”

 

 _“You didn’t have a problem with it before,”_ the Machine reminded her.

 

_Touché._

 

The hacker just huffed, having reached her bike, which she’d parked in a side street, finally. She grabbed her helmet, which she’d secured to the motorcycle when she’d left, and plunked herself down on the seat, a pout on her face. “So, the woman I love is meeting regulary with this guy, getting sweaty-“

 

 _“You know that the training is part of her cover,”_ the ASI chimed in.

 

“-and now,” Root continued, ignoring the all-seeing god in her ear for once, “she’s having drinks with him, obviously enjoying his company. And you don’t understand why I’m jealous…” She shook her head slightly. “I mean, have you seen this guy?” The hacker might not like men as potential sex partners, but she had eyes. And she had to admit that their number was quite handsome. Above that, he was a former Marine and a fight expert. Two things she knew Shaw would find very attractive.

 

_“Are you questioning Primary Asset Shaw’s fidelity?”_

 

Root frowned. “No,” she answered. A moment passed. “Maybe…?” She shrugged her shoulders.

 

 _“You don’t trust her?”_ The Machine sounded honestly curious now.

 

“I do,” the hacker replied almost immediately. “With my life.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But… who’s to say that I’m enough to fill every need that she may have?” There it was. This nagging feeling of insecurity, that’s always been waiting right under the surface of the hacker’s perky demeanor.

 

Despite everything they’d been through together and despite knowing for sure that Sameen cared about her, Root had to admit, that she still struggled to understand the why of Shaw being with her. The hacker really hadn’t expected a happy ending for herself even though she’d wanted one. And now, that she’d gotten the one thing, she’d wanted the most besides having a connection with the Machine, which was being with Shaw, she sometimes had problems to fully trust it, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Some days she just didn’t feel like she was worthy of happiness.

 

 _Well, isn’t it nice how one single thing can bring out all those broken issues at once?_ Root thought with a sigh and a grim smile on her lips.

 

 _“I’m 87.5 percent sure that Primary Asset Shaw wouldn’t betray you like this,”_ the ASI offered helpfully.

 

The hacker raised her brows. “Nice statistic. But what’s with the remaining 12.5 percent?”

 

_“You off all people should know that I can’t predict human behavior with a hundred percent accuracy.”_

 

Root rolled her eyes slightly. _As if 99.9 percent isn’t close enough…_ “I was joking.”

 

She wasn’t. Not really.

 

_“What I’m trying to tell you, is that you’re being irrational right now.”_

 

The hacker gave a low humorless chuckle. “You know, that’s the fun with human beings. They aren’t always rational.” She fetched her phone from her pocket once more, staring at the live stream still playing on the screen with a frown on her face. Shaw and Mr. Muscle were still talking, sipping at their beers occasionally. For a second, the hacker pondered to call her girlfriend, maybe tease her a bit, like that time when Shaw had met with Tomas, but then decided against it.

 

The agent inside Root told her not to worry and that it was most likely that Sameen was still trying to pry information from Diaz, to get close to him for the mission’s sake. Hence the bonding time. However, the girlfriend inside her reminded her of the _Tomas-incident_ and screamed _unwanted competition_ at her. With a big exclamation mark. Root definitely never had been one to share.

 

The next second, the hacker could see Shaw laughing at something the number had said. _Laughing._ The pang of jealousy followed immediately. Growling lowly, Root fixated Mr. Muscle, who was now sitting awfully close to the Persian. To close for the hacker’s liking. “That’s it,” she grumbled, “I’m going to kill him.”

 

 _“You can’t just kill the number!”_ The Machine sounded clearly irritated.

 

Root just shrugged. “Oh, I _can_. I’m a killer. Remember?” The smile on her face was murderous.

 

 _“Do I have to remind you that your mission is to_ safe _the number? Not to eliminate him.”_ Despite talking with the deep timbre of Scarlett Johansson’s voice, the ASI sounded more like Finch right now. The hacker couldn’t help the tiny smirk that played around her lips at the thought.

 

“What if he’s the perp?” Root threw in.

 

 _“You won’t find out if you’ll kill him beforehand, right?”_ the Machine fired back.

 

“Well, we’d know for sure then that he’s a victim…,” the dark haired woman quipped. _And Bye-bye unwanted competition. Kill two birds with one stone._

 

The ASI sounded quite exasperated now. _“If you’re actually planning on killing the number just because you’re upset, I’ll contact Primary Asset Shaw to stop you.”_

 

Root furrowed her brows. That would definitely be interesting – and would most likely end with her getting her butt kicked into the next week by Shaw. _So, no killing the number. For now._

 

“Tattletale,” she mumbled under her breath. Huffing, she put on her black leather riding gloves. “You know, your predecessors were more fun than you.”

 

_“I doubt that.”_

 

The hacker smirked as she pulled her helmet on and started her bike. “You’ve no idea. Obviously,” she muttered.

 

The Machine was silent for a moment. Then she asked, _“What’s your plan now?”_

 

“Well, as I’m not allowed to kill our lovely number, I can at least pay him a visit. Maybe mark my territory a little,” Root replied with a devilish grin, as she merged into traffic.

 

 _“Will you be barking at him, too?”_ The dry sense of humor the ASI obviously had gotten from Finch, too.

 

Her Analog Interface gave a smirk at that. “Nope,” she replied. “This dog’s all bite and no bark.”

 

_And now it’s time to bare some teeth._

 

 

\----------

 

 

Meanwhile, Shaw was sipping at her third beer, listening to some old war stories Diaz was telling her. Over the last few days, she’d spent pretty much time with the MMA trainer to get to know him better and to hopefully find out why his number had come up. Her gut told her that it might’ve something to do with the underground fightings. So, she agreed on having a drink, when Diaz invited her after their training session this evening. Maybe the number would be more talkative after a few beers. _Time to make a move, Shaw._

 

“You know,” Sameen said, putting her beer bottle on the bar, “people like us seem to be unable to leave the fights behind us. Even though we’ve seen the worst people can do to each other, we just need the violence and the adrenaline. To really feel alive.”

 

Diaz nodded, nursing his fourth beer. “You could say that.”

 

“Yea,” Shaw replied, then looked her number straight in the eye. “Obviously, you seem to need an extra portion of that, considering these underground fightings you’re partaking in.” _Straight to the point._

 

Diaz frowned, looking at Sameen a bit warily now. “How do you-?”

 

The Persian huffed for show. “Oh, come on, mate. You definitely made your mark in the world of _Fight Club_. You just have to ask the right people.” She took another sip of her beer, still looking at her number, studying his reactions. After his initial suspiciousness, he seemed to be mostly at ease with her knowledge of his nightly activities now, although not completely proud of them. _Interesting._

 

Sameen shrugged, a light smile on her face. “I know it’s none of my business, but dude, you maybe should work on your nickname.” She shook her head. “I mean, I get the innuendo. But really? _Fratricide_?” The nickname had been one of the few things the Machine had found out about Diaz involvement in the illegal fights.

 

The MMA trainer chuckled. “Well, in my defense, I didn’t come up with it.”

 

“Good to know,” Sameen said. After a beat, “How’d you get into it?”

 

Diaz shrugged. “A friend of mine introduced me a while ago. Like you said, I needed the adrenaline. And the money.”

 

The Persian nodded. “You know, I could use some extra money.” She shrugged. “Maybe you’ll introduce me, too?” _Come on. Agree on it._

 

The number eyed her, pondering her request for a moment. “I don’t know… I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re an excellent fighter and all, but this kind of stuff can be quite dangerous.”

 

Shaw scoffed. “I’m not exactly new to this world, mate.” It wasn’t really a lie. Fighting for your life while preventing an evil ASI to take over the world was definitely more dangerous than throwing fists in some underground fightings in Sameen’s book. Although she knew that MMA fights were known for their brutality. And the illegal fights took it up a notch: No sanctions, no officials, no proper medical attendance. _Fun._

 

“It got my friend killed,” Diaz just replied. It made the Persian sit up. _This could be important._

 

“What?” she asked, honestly curious now. “What happened?”

 

The MMA trainer shrugged. “Well, I don’t really know, to be honest. A few weeks ago, Santiago, my friend, went to a fight in the Bronx without me, said he needed blow off some steam and some quick cash. He called me afterwards, told me that he’d won and if I wanted to celebrate. I was busy, so I said no. The next morning, I got a call from his sister.” Diaz shook his head, clearly troubled by the memory, but trying not to let it show it too much. “She said that some passersby found him in an alley. Dead.”

 

Shaw frowned. “I’m sorry,” she quietly offered her sympathy.

 

Diaz nodded. “Thanks.” He sighed. “The coroner said that the cause of death was bleeding of the brain, caused by blunt force trauma, most likely happened during the fight. But…”

 

“But?” the Persian inquired.

 

The number shrugged his shoulders and shook his head slightly in thought. “I don’t believe it. I mean, when he called me, everything seemed to be fine.”

 

“It’s not unlikely for the symptoms to show up later in case of traumatic brain injury,” Sameen pointed out. At least, they’d thaught her that in medical school.

 

The number just shrugged. “Whatever. I think it’s fishy.” He shook his head slightly again. “If I’d have gone with him that evening, he’d maybe still be alive,” he mumbled.

 

Shaw knitted her brows. “You don’t know that,” she told him, somewhat harshly, and the dark haired man looked up in surprise. “Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t,” the Persian continued, more calmly. “But wallowing in self pity and thinking about what would’ve been, isn’t healthy.”

 

Diaz stared at her for a few seconds, clearly lost for words. He then nodded. “Sounds right to me. Thanks for the reminder.” His expression turned grim a second later. “However, I’ve got to find out what really happened.”

 

 _I think I know why his number came up now_ , Shaw thought. She nodded. “Good luck with that, mate.” She gave Diaz a half smile that she hoped looked encouraging. After a pause, she said, “I know it’s dangerous. But, about the invitation…” She trailed of, waiting for Diaz’ reaction.

 

The MMA trainer gave a light smirk. “You don’t give up easily, huh?”

 

Shaw smirked back. _You have no idea._ “Marines never give up, you should know that.”

 

“True,” Diaz agreed, although he didn’t seem to be convinced completely.

 

“Come on,” the former ISA operative tried again, “just a few fights and then I’m out. Do a Marine buddy a favor?”

 

There was a moment of silence, then the number broke into a slight smile. “Okay,” he agreed finally, stucking his hand into his jeans pocket, retrieving a business card and placing it on the table in front of Shaw. “For a Marine buddy. Semper fi, huh?”

 

The Persian took the card and looked down on it. A place and a time were printed on it, nothing more. A venue located near the Manhattan Bridge. Friday, 9 o’clock p.m. She looked up with a small smirk on her face. _First step accomplished._ “Semper fi,” she repeated. “I’ll be there.”

 

Diaz nooded.

 

After that, they fell silent for a few moments, each of them sipping at their beer, until Diaz spoke again. “You know, Sameen,” he began, “you’re an interesting woman.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes internally. _There._ There they were. The unwanted advances she’d dreaded but had waited for the whole evening since she’d agreed on having a drink with the number for the mission’s sake.

 

“You wanna go out of here?” the MMA trainer asked hopefully after a short pause, his intentions clear.

 

Sameen eyed him for a second. There was no denying of the fact, that Cain Diaz was handsome. He was tall, thouroughly fit, and had just the right amount of muscles. He seemed to be a man of intellect and although Shaw didn’t know if he was the victim or the perpetrator yet, he seemed like a good person. Above that, he was a former Marine and someone, who could hold his own in a fight. Some time ago, the Persian agent wouldn’t have hesitated for long and would’ve left the bar with this guy, having one or three nights of fun. The only reason for her not to have sex with him then would’ve been the fact that he was a number.

 

But now, since her and Root were more than partners in… well, missions, things were different. While monogamy wasn’t a concept Shaw had found very convincingly before, she’d changed her mind now, just because of one crazy hacker that hadn’t stopped bugging her. Sameen was sure that she’d found her match in Root. She wasn’t willing to share her physically or romantically and she was positive that Root was the same. So, getting it on with any other person that wasn’t her girlfriend, was out of question for the former ISA operative, knowing that it would hurt the hacker deeply.

 

Therefore, Shaw shook her head. “I’m with someone.” Again, _straight to the point._

 

The number’s expression changed from hopefulness to surprise to disappointment in a second, but he backed off almost immediately.

 

_Guy has manners at least._

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Diaz muttered, “well, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But it’s been really nice talking to you, Sameen,” he said, the smile on his face genuine.

 

\-----

 

Five minutes later, Shaw and the number left the bar, already in the process of saying their goodbyes, as the Persian’s gaze fell on a familiar looking figure, sitting on a parked motorcycle a few feet away. _What the…?_

 

Diaz followed her gaze to see the tall, leather clad woman taking off her helmet, shaking out her chestnut waves, and looking beyond stunning.

 

For a few seconds, the number and Shaw both stared at Root in awe. The Persian swallowed discreetly. There was something about seeing Root straddled on her bike that was just so damn hot. Then, realizing that Diaz’ gaze was drawn on the hacker, too, the former ISA operative smacked his bicep. Hard. “ _Hey,_ ” she growled in annoyance, definitely not liking how he was staring at her girlfriend. _That’s just for me to do._

 

The MMA trainer looked at her in surprise. After a second, realization dawned in his eyes. “Is that your _someone_?”

 

“Yes,” Shaw grumbled. _My significant… annoyance._ Ignoring the number whistling lowly in an approvingly manner, the ex-ISA agent stomped towards the hacker, who was just getting off her bike. “What’re you doing here?” Sameen hissed.

 

Root glanced at her with a grin that was a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Kiss kiss to you too, Sweetie,” she drawled. “Thought I swing by and say hi to your new friend,” she told Sameen, while she looked over her girlfriend’s shoulder to give the number a faux smile.

 

Shaw knitted her brows in confusion. “Why? Did the Machine send you here?”

 

“Nope,” Root replied, popping the ‘P’, while she still stared at Diaz over Sameen’s shoulder.

 

“What’s the matter then?”

 

The hacker just shrugged her leather-clad shoulders. “Sometimes you’ve got to show them who’s the alpha,” she told the smaller woman with a sweet smile on her lips and that trademark maniac look in her eyes that usually meant trouble. Big time.

 

 _What the hell?_ “Did you get hit on your head during your mission, or what?” Shaw asked with a frown on her face.

 

“No,” Root replied, “but thanks for asking, Sweetie. Mission went well, by the way. Now I’ve got another one.” She simply brushed past Shaw then, leaving the confused Persian behind, and went over to the number, who’d waited patiently out of earshot.

 

“Hi,” the hacker greeted Diaz, smiling sweetly as she held out her hand for the dark haired man to shake. “You must be this MMA trainer, Sameen has talked about.”

 

Diaz smiled back. Unlike Root’s, his smile was genuine. “Hey.” He shook the hacker’s hand. “Yes, I’m Cain. Cain Diaz. Nice to meet you…” He trailed off, clearly waiting for the brunette woman to introduce herself.

 

“Root.”

 

The number furrowed his brows. “That’s a strange name.”

 

The hacker gave him an annoyed smirk. “Well, certainly better than carrying the name of a fratricide, huh?”

 

“ _Root!_ ” Shaw hissed as she stepped back at her girlfriend’s side. _What’s going on in this crazy head of yours?_

 

Diaz just laughed, clearly amused by the hacker’s comment. “Touché,” he replied.

 

The Persian huffed in annoyance. “Great,” she said sarcastically, “now that we’ve settled this, we can part ways.”

 

“Not so fast,” Root drawled, “I’ve got a little message for Cain here first.”

 

“Root…”

 

The hacker ignored the sour look Shaw was giving her and took one more step towards the confused MMA fighter, getting into his personal space. Despite being a tall woman, Root still had to look up at Diaz, and she knew that he could beat her to a pulp in seconds if he’d wanted to. However, she wasn’t worried, just annoyed. She almost whished for him to make a move, so that she could make good use of this new taser she bought a few days ago.

 

“Listen, _Muscle Boy_ ,” Root was talking in a faux sugary voice, but her eyes, glaring daggers at Diaz, were telling the number the real story. “You make a move on my girlfriend, and I’ll kill you.”

 

The Machine reminded her in an annoyed voice that she wasn’t allowed to kill the number. Root ignored her.

 

“Slowly.”

 

Shaw felt the sudden urge to sucker punch the hacker. What was wrong with this crazy chick? _Well, besides the usual issues…_ “ _Root!_ ” she hissed, but the taller woman ignored her.

 

“And I’ll make sure that nobody would find your body. Ever.” The hacker gave the man a feral grin. “Understood?”

 

Diaz just stared at her for a moment. _Who the hell is this crazy person?_ He’d faced a lot of violent men in the past and being threatened wasn’t new for him. He’d been in combat as a Marine and in some quite brutal fights as MMA fighter, so there wasn’t much that could threw Diaz. However, he had to admit that this beautiful, but crazy eyed woman left him quite uncomfortable. He didn’t know her, but somehow he knew that she would totally carry out her threat. Therefore, he nodded. “Understood,” he replied. “We’ve already clarified that, by the way.”

 

Root smirked. “Good to know.” She stepped back, tilting her head to one side. “Have a nice evening.”

 

Shaw shook her head, clearly annoyed, and shared a look with Diaz. “Sorry ‘bout that. You should go now.”

 

Diaz nodded. “Good idea,” he muttered. “Have a… uhm… nice evening, ladies.” He gave Shaw a light smile and Root a somewhat confused look. And then he was gone.

 

The hacker’s eyes followed him until he was vanished behind a corner. _Good-bye Muscle Boy._ Still smirking slightly, she turned – and was faced with a fuming little Persian. _Uh oh…_

 

“ _You!_ ” Shaw growled. “Did you just lose that little bit that was left of your mind?”

 

Root just shrugged. “Can’t a gal just make a clear announcement that she doesn’t share her girlfriend?” There was a small pout on her face now.

 

Sameen furrowed her brows, annoyed. “Am I property now, or what?”

 

A hurt expression flashed over Root’s face for a second. “As if I’d ever think of you like that,” she muttered under her breath.

 

Shaw just raised her brows, clearly not convinced. “Are you sure? Because I’ve just watched you behaving like a male baboon, trying to scare off another male, so that he can go on fucking all the females in his harem.” She shook her head, exasperated. “I’m glad that you don’t have a dick, because if you had we probably would’ve gotten a complaint for indicent behavior by now,” she growled, her voice slightly hushed in case there were some curious passersby. For now, they, however, were the only people in the alley behind the sports bar. “Because you would’ve insisted on comparing your dick size, you freak,” Sameen added with an annoyed look on her face.

 

Root couldn’t suppress a smirk at that. _Totally._ She could see Sameen rolling her eyes at her, and she felt a new wave of anger floating through her. “Well, maybe you should ask yourself why I’m acting this way, _Shaw_ ,” she spat out. When the Persian just looked at her in confusion, it was the hacker’s turn to roll her eyes. “You going out with _Mr. Muscle_ , having drinks with him, after having spent an awful lot of time with him the past few days? Getting all nice and chatty with him? Without calling me and telling me what’s going on?” She huffed in annoyance. “What do you think what went through my head then, huh, _Shaw_?”

 

Sameen just stared at her girlfriend for a moment, stunned. She could see it now. Root was jealous. The I-think-my-girlfriend-may-cheat-on-me-kind of jealous. _What the fuck?_ “You’re an idiot, Root,” the Persian grumbled eventually.

 

The hacker gaped at her. “ _What?_ ”

 

Shaw shook her head. “You heard me.” She glared at the taller woman. “Do you really think I would fuck this,” she made a vague waving gesture with her right hand between the two of them, “up like that? After everything, we’ve been through? Fucking some random guy?”

 

Shaw’s voice was quiet, but her restrained anger was definitely noticeable. Root swallowed. Hard. She felt like an idiot suddenly, but was too proud to admit it yet. Therefore, she just shrugged her shoulders, avoiding Sameen’s gaze.

 

“Look at me, Root,” the Persian demanded, her voice dangerously low. “Look at me and tell me that you think I would hurt you like that.” _Do you really think, I would kill myself over seven thousand times for you, and then do something like this?_ She wanted to shake the other woman and scream the question at her, but she was worried that it would be a little over the top. So, she settled for just a dangerous glare.

 

The hacker swallowed again. _Time to woman up, right?_ She looked up, meeting Sameen’s piercing gaze with her eyes and licking her suddenly dry lips. “Honestly?” A short pause. “No,” she answered, receiving a pleased nod from Shaw in return. The hacker shrugged and added, “I was just…” She trailed off.

 

“Jealous?” Shaw offered, her brows raised.

 

Root shrugged again. “Yeah…,” she mumbled.

 

“Well, obviously Skynet didn’t inform you that I’ve been trying to get an invitation for the fight club Diaz is in, and which possibly could be connected to the reason his number came up. Hence the bonding time,” Shaw explained.

 

“And?” the hacker asked, more calm now.

 

“And I’ve got an invitation for a fight in three days.”

 

“Oh. Good.” Root nodded, smiling approvingly. Shaw answered with a smile of her own. A dangerous one.

 

“Yea. But you know what?” She made a little pause. “Thanks to the green-eyed monster paying a visit, I may’ve lost my access to the fight on Friday. And with that, it’s possible that we may’ve lost our only chance to save the number – or his possible victims,” Sameen rumbled, glaring daggers at her girlfriend now.

 

The hacker bit her lip. _Fuck._ Way to mess up a mission.

 

“So, _Root_ ,” the former ISA operative growled, “Tell me _one good reason_ why I shouldn’t bend you over that bike of yours and smack the living daylights out of you right now.”

 

Root didn’t squeak at that. _Nope_ , she absolutely didn’t, if you’d ask her. But she might’ve taken a few steps back to get herself out of the reach of one furious little Persian. “We-we might get the complaint a-about indecent behavior you’ve talked about?” she stuttered. The Machine’s voice was suddenly in her good ear, telling her that the possibility of her actually getting a thrashing was at 54.2 percent. _Not helping!_

 

One moment later, Shaw grabbed her by the bicep, her grip like steel, and manhandled her over to the parked motorcycle. For a split second, Root truly expected Shaw to force her down and give her the beating of her life. _Nooo!_

 

But then the Persian let go of her and just roughly shoved the helmet into the hacker’s hands. _What?_

 

“Start the engine already, I want to go home,” Shaw told her while she grabbed the spare helmet from the back seat, smirking slightly at her girlfriend’s dumbfounded expression. _Gotcha._

 

“Not funny,” Root muttered under her breath as she sat down on the motorcycle and pulled her helmet on. She started the engine, letting it purr underneath her. Still smirking, Shaw climbed onto the back of the bike, pulling the helmet on and, to the hacker’s surprise, slipping her arms around Root’s waist.

 

They wove in and out of traffic in silence for a few minutes. Root could feel Shaw pressed against her back, her warmth, her arms firmly around the hacker’s waist. _What a nice way to spend the evening._ Finally, Root spoke again. “I’m sorry for being a jealous idiot,” she apologized, her voice slightly muffled because of the helmet.

 

Shaw just hummed in reply.

 

“You know what?” the hacker continued after a moment. “I totally believed for a second you’d actually give me a good thrashing back there.”

 

Shaw was silent for a moment, then, “Who says that you won’t receive one when we’re back home?”

 

Root almost swerved her bike into the railing. The squeaking sound was _absolutely_ caused by the tires making contact with the road surface. _Yep._

 

“You’re kidding, right?”

 

No answer.

 

“ _Right!?_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admit it. You totally want to know if Shaw would follow through with her threat :D  
> And we don’t know for sure yet why Root and Shaw are in this shitty situation 72 hours later. 
> 
> So, stay tuned for the second part!


	13. Hit me with your best shot, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw isn’t one to make idle threats – much to Root’s chagrin… 
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains the graphic description of domestic discipline in form of a semi-consensual spanking of an adult. If this isn’t you cup of tea, please skip this chapter! 
> 
> Also: some smut ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay – life got in the way of writing. 
> 
> I know that some of my readers like the idea of Root and Shaw having some kind of domestic discipline going on between them (so I built it into this story), others may find the idea not very appealing. So, for the first kind of readers: Please enjoy and leave your comments. For the second kind of readers: You may skip this chapter and come back for the next one :)
> 
> And: Don’t hate me for actually cutting the whole thing into three parts. The individual parts were just already very long – and I didn’t want you to wait much longer for another update :) In the next chapter, you’ll definitely get to know why Root and Shaw are in this shitty situation at the beginning of chapter 12. (I don’t make idle threats, too… XD)

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You know,” Root said as she stopped the bike in front of their apartment building and took off her helmet, “why don’t you go ahead?” She gave Sameen a small smile over her left shoulder. “I’ll just have to pay a short visit to the Library.”

 

Shaw got rid of her helmet and cocked one brow in disbelief. “ _Now_?” It was almost midnight.

 

The hacker shrugged slightly. “Well, there seem to be a few little problems with Her servers,” she explained. “She wanted me to take a look at them as soon as possible.”

 

 _“I didn’t,”_ the Machine’s voice resounded through the speaker of Sameen’s phone suddenly.

 

 _Dammit._ Root’s eyes widened and she could feel her cheeks growing hot, a bit embarrassed at being caught in a lie. “Traitor,” she muttered under her breath, glancing at Sameen over her shoulder to give her a somewhat apologizing grin. “Oops…”

 

The former ISA operative just stared at her girlfriend in an unamused manner, although internally she was chuckling at Root’s behavior. Clearly, she was trying to avoid going upstairs with Shaw because of the threat the Persian had uttered earlier. With the rosy blush on her cheeks and the uneasy grin, the hacker reminded her of a little kid that was trying to worm its way out of punishment. _Kinda cute._

 

Sameen leaned more forward, so that her lips were merely an inch from Root’s good ear. “Seems like Skynet isn’t on your side this time,” she said quietly. “Given that you don’t have to be any other place right now, let’s go inside. Shall we?” She then climbed off the back of Root’s bike, not without giving the hacker’s waist a light squeeze.

 

Root couldn’t help a shiver that ran down her spine at her girlfriend’s touch as well as her low voice and the dangerous smirk she was giving her. She wasn’t afraid of Shaw. _No._ Even back then, when they hadn’t fought on the same side yet and the Persian had shot her, Root hadn’t been afraid of her. Not even intimitaded, but just intrigued since the day she’d read the former ISA agent’s file.

 

So, Shaw’s threat of bending her over and giving her a smacking for her behavior earlier this day might’ve been quite… unorthodox, even for their standards, but it wasn’t frightening Root. However, she had to admit that it left her a bit uneasy, although she trusted Sameen not to harm her. Sure, the Persian had shot and punched her before, but that had been under different circumstances.

 

Besides that, the experience of physical pain was a consensual part of their relationship since those 10 hours in the CIA safehouse, as they both were really into kinky stuff. Therefore, their sexual activities usually were rough, including some biting, scratching and strangling as much as the use of cuffs or zip ties. _And then some._

 

Above that, Shaw had swatted her a few times on a couple of occasions, sometimes to spice up their sex life, sometimes to just knock some sense into her when the hacker’s behavior got more reckless than usual. (Not that a few whacks upside the back of the head would have had _that_ much impact on the Analog Interface’s almost wilfull lack of self preservation.)

 

Although Root wasn’t submissive by nature, she couldn’t deny that the few smacks Shaw had doled out across her backside during their sexual activities had definitely turned her on. The second kind of smacks she’d come to accept as part of the way Sameen expressed her care for her in her own grumpy way and made sure she didn’t get carried away. The Persian sure had the tendency to let her actions speak rather than her words. If Root had found it abusive, she already would’ve tased Shaw for just laying a single finger on her. That’s for sure.

 

The hacker was convinced that Sameen would never inflict serious damage on her girlfriend’s body, at least not willingly. Nevertheless, Root had gotten her share of spankings growing up in Bishop to know that this kind of disciplining could hurt pretty badly. And she knew how strong Shaw was. So, when the hacker eventually followed Shaw to their apartment her mind was torn between being turned on by her girlfriend’s threat and unsettled at the thought of Sameen actually following through with it.

 

 _Damn, that’s really confusing_ , Root thought as she silently walked up the stairs to the fourth floor, Shaw in front of her. They both had a silent agreement to avoid using elevators whenever it was possible. Bad memories and such.

 

As soon as Shaw opened the door a few moments later, they were greeted by Bear. The dog had jumped down from the couch, he’d apparently been sleeping on, and came trotting up to his two favorite humans. He nuzzled Sameen’s hand then, happily wagging his tail.

 

“Hey, handsome,” the Persian cooed. She crouched down to scratch Bear between the ears, giving the dog this one soft and happy smile that was reserved only for him. _Well, for him and Root. Sometimes._ Acting like a jealous idiot and jeopardizing the mission as a result, though, definitely wasn’t something that deserved a smile, but rather some punisment in Shaw’s opinion.

 

To be honest, she didn’t really know where the urge to give Root a good hiding had come from. She just knew that she’d been considerably mad at the hacker earlier, and for a second, she’d been ready to carry out her threat right then and there. _Well, that definitely would’ve been a spectacle for the neighborhood…_

 

However, after having cooled down a bit, the urge to smack that silly behavior out of Root wasn’t as overwhelming as before, although not entirely gone. Regardless of that, it was kinda fun to let the threat hang in the air and watch her girlfriend’s reactions. Shaw had to admit, that it was quite fascinating how the usually perky hacker turned into a guilty looking puppy at the prospect of a sound punishment spanking, despite having faced much worse in the past.

 

It wasn’t the Persian’s intention to be cruel, but obviously she’d found an – admittedly unorthodox, but effective – way to put an otherwise unstoppable force like Root in her place. Therefore, Shaw decided not to let her girlfriend off the hook yet. Instead, she got up, shrugged off her coat with quick movements and glared at the taller woman, who was still lingering near the front door with an uneasy look on her face.

 

“I’ll go grab a quick shower,” the Persian explained in a low voice, “and then the two of us are going to have a talk.”

 

Root’s eyebrows rose up at that. “Talk?” she echoed, sounding quite unsettled. “You mean your hand _talking_ with my ass or what?”

 

Shaw couldn’t suppress a light smirk at the hacker’s flippant remark. “Well, you’ll find out soon,” she promised with a look in her eyes the hacker couldn’t quite place. Without waiting for the other woman’s reaction, the Persian then turned around and headed to the bathroom, leaving behind a wide-eyed Root.

 

“You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?” the hacker called after her. “You won’t _really_ spank me, will you?”

 

No answer.

 

“Shaw?”

 

The bathroom door slammed shut.

 

_Dammit._

 

Groaning in frustration, Root threw her helmet on the couch, using a bit more force than necessary. It landed with a thud. She then shed her backpack and her leather jacket, both landing on the dark brown piece of furniture too just a few seconds later. Her leather riding gloves and a taser were following shortly after. Bear tilted his head to one side and stared up at the hacker, giving a low whine.

 

Root gave the dog a pointed look. “What’re you whining ‘bout, buddy? You’re not the one who’s in trouble with the tiny grumpy one.” Bear whined again, tilting his head to the other side as if he was trying to understand what the tall and crazy one told him.

 

Root leaned over then and petted Bear on the head. The Belgian Mallinois panted happily, his rosy tongue hanging out. The hacker smiled at this for a few seconds, and then she sighed. “Maybe I should just leave town ‘til Friday,” she muttered to herself. Well, actually to Bear, but it wasn’t like he’d understand her...

 

 _“I wouldn’t recommend this.”_ The Machine’s voice was suddenly back in the hacker’s ear again. _“Primary Asset Shaw would get mad at you for simply disappearing.”_ After a beat, _“I mean, more than she already is, obviously.”_

 

Root rolled her eyes. “Well, _hello there_ , my backstabbing artificial friend.”

 

 _“I wouldn’t use such a drastic term to describe my honesty earlier.”_ The ASI sounded slightly piqued and the hacker had to think of Harold again.

 

Root gave a low chuckle. “Trust me. That was the _polite_ version.” After a beat, she added, “Besides, you want to give me a lecture about honesty? _Really?_ ” She shook her head in light annoyance. “Do I have to remind you that you’ve _lied_ to everyone I care for about my _death_ not so long ago?”

 

_“That was quite a different situation. And I’ve already explained in detail to you why it was necessary.”_

 

The hacker just hummed.

 

 _“Could it be that you’re just arguing with me because you’re angry at yourself for overreacting today?”_ the Machine asked a moment later, her voice more softly than before.

 

Root huffed. “Have you been watching the psychology channels again?”

 

 _“Admittedly, yes,”_ the ASI replied. _“But you’re my Analog Interface. I know you so well that I don’t need a lesson in psychology to make sense of your behavior. Most of the time at least.”_

 

The hacker gave a short shake of her head, a barely recognizable smile on her lips. “True,” she muttered as she wandered into the bedroom and turned on the light, kicking her boots off on the way. Then, she peeled off her shirt and bra. If she had to deal with an annoyed girlfriend at this late hour, she could at least get into clothes that were more comfortable.

 

“I know that Sameen’s still mad at me for interfering with the number.” She grabbed a loose black shirt with green Matrix code overprint from a chair and pulled it over her head. “How ‘bout you?”

 

 _“You know that it’s not my nature to bear grudges,”_ the ASI replied. _“However, I can’t deny that I was quite alarmed when you were talking about killing the number because you thought of him as a threat for your relationship with Primary Asset Shaw.”_

 

The hacker shrugged while she switched her jeans for more comfortable black sweatpants. “I’ve killed for less.”

 

_“Exactly.”_

 

The Machine was silent for a moment, she then continued, _“You may have compromised the mission.”_ It didn’t sound like an accusation, more like a statement. Nevertheless, Root couldn’t block out the feeling of remorse entirely. _Sucks to have a conscience._

 

The former contract killer couldn’t have cared less about what the rest of humanity thought about her for a long time of her life. However, being a part of Team Machine and being in a relationship with Sameen had changed some things. She still didn’t give a damn about most of human kind, but regardless of that, Root had realized that it _did_ matter to her what the Machine and, first of all, Shaw thought of her and her actions. Messing up and having Sameen disappointed in her was something the hacker didn’t take lightly.

 

Root plunked herself down on the bed and leaned her upper body against the headboard, pulling one leg to her chest while the other one remained stretched out on the mattress. “I’m aware of that”, she muttered in response to the ASI’s prior statement. She let her head fall against the wall and looked up at the ceiling fan, where she’d planted a hidden camera some time ago. She was quite sure that Sameen knew of the insight the Machine had into their private lifes, although her girlfriend hadn’t lost a word about it yet. Maybe she counted on the ASI’s sense of privacy. _Which She doesn’t really have_ , Root thought, slightly amused. _Sorry, Sameen._

 

“How are the odds that Sameen is still in the game?” the hacker asked. _Despite me threatening the number…_

 

_“Considering the fact that you apparently made quite the impression on Diaz-“_

 

Root couldn’t help a smirk playing around her lips.

 

_“-it’s most likely that he’ll try to avoid having contact with Primary Asset Shaw to stay out of trouble.”_

 

The hacker’s smirk vanished. _Damn._ She sighed. “So… how are the chances for me to actually getting thoroughly smacked tonight?”

 

_“Pretty high right now. And, if I may express my opinion, it would be well deserved.”_

Root huffed, furrowing her brows. “ _Jeez..._ What happened to being a _compassionate_ entity?”

 

 _“I think this part of my personality is overwritten by annoyance for tonight,”_ the ASI answered.

 

The hacker rolled her eyes. _Sensitive plant._ She was just about to express her thought – in a not so polite manner – as the bedroom door opened and a freshly showered Shaw came in. The Machine fell silent instantly.

 

“Really thought you would be up and away by now,” the Persian said, mildly surprised to see the other woman waiting for her on the bed, while she closed the door behind her. Shaw was dressed in a simple black tank top and black sleep shorts. Her hair was still damp from the shower and up in her usual ponytail.

 

Root tilted her head to one side slightly, trying to look nonchalantly. “You should know by now that I’m not a coward.” _Let’s not mention that I thought about leaving town just a few minutes ago…_

 

“That’s true,” Sameen answered with a small nod as she stepped towards the bed. She sat down on its edge diagonally opposite Root with one bent leg resting on the mattress and the other one remaining on the floor, facing her girlfriend. They both were silent for a moment, then the Persian spoke again, her face serious, “You’ve got no reason to play jealous idiot, you know?”

 

Root swallowed. _She really wants to talk about this. Great…_ “I know,” she mumbled, avoiding the other woman’s eyes.

 

Shaw raised her brows. “Really?” she asked, not quite convinced. “Because what I’ve seen today-“

 

“I’m sorry, _okay_?” the hacker cut her off, a bit too loud. The Persian’s eyebrows furrowed in reaction. Root shook her head. “Sorry,” she muttered. Then, more quietly, she added, “It’s just… when I saw the footage of you and the number in the bar… it was _Tomas_ all over again.”

 

The former ISA operative shook her head, frowning. “Root…” However, the hacker cut her off once more.

 

“Let me finish, Sameen.” She sounded slightly annoyed now. “Last time you nearly left us, left _me_ , because of this Tomas-guy. And now-“

 

“ _Now_ the situation is a different one.” It was Shaw’s turn to interrupt her girlfriend’s speech. “I thought that this was clear.”

 

The hacker didn’t reply verbally, but just shrugged her shoulders, causing Shaw to narrow her eyes.  The anger the Persian had felt before was rising again inside her. She knew the hacker well enough by now to be aware of the abyss filled with insecurities that lay under the surface of her perky demeanor, and she understood why Root might go all green-eyed at seeing Shaw having a drink with some handsome guy.

 

However, equally, Root should know _her_ well enough by now to be aware that Sameen’s code of honor didn’t consist just of protection, but of trust and loyalty too. _Did she really think I’d let a number woo me?_ Shaw asked herself for a second. Then, she remembered her girlfriend’s behavior on this evening. _Yep._ Apparently, jealousy prevented the hacker’s usual smart brain from functioning properly.

 

“Okay…,” Shaw said, _no_ , growled lowly, leaning forward and searching for Root’s eyes, causing her to stare at her cautiously. “Then let me make this clear for you once and for all. And listen _carefully_ , so that I don’t have to repeat myself, because I’m not really good with words, as you know.”

 

Sameen stared intensely into Root’s hazel eyes, causing the Analog Interface to swallow hard. _God, why am I being so nervous?_ In an attempt to calm herself, Root let her mind wander for a second, her thoughts going to those dark eyes staring at her. _No matter, how often I’ve looked into them, I think I can never get enough of them. So beautiful and mesmerizing._ And then her eyes wandered too. Right to Shaw’s cleavage. _Hallelujah for low cut tank tops…_

 

A sharp yank at the hem of her shirt brought the hacker back to reality. She looked back up, meeting Sameen’s incredulous stare, and gave her an innocent shrug. “Sorry, Sweetie,” she muttered. “I’m all ears.” Well, no one could blame her for getting all hot and bothered every time she was in trouble with Shaw when the tiny ball of Persian fury looked so adorable and sexy while being stern. _Right?_

 

Sameen shook her head. _Typically Root. Say something about listening carefully and she’s eye fucking you instead._ “I…,” she began, “care about you, Root.” _I may not say it out loud constantly, but I really do._

 

Having expected an angry lecture, the hacker’s brows went up slightly at hearing these words.

 

Shaw looked down into her lap, giving a little shake of her head as if she was confused why she had to articulate things that were just so obvious in her sight. “You’re… important to me.” _You should know that by now._

 

Root’s lips turned into a little smile at this. It wasn’t like she didn’t know these things deep down in her heart, but actually hearing those sincere words from her girlfriend meant a lot to her. Especially, because she knew how hard it was for Shaw to put into words what she was feeling.

 

“Sameen…,” Root started, but the Persian cut her off.

 

“ _No_.” She shook her head slightly. “Let me finish.”

 

The hacker nodded.

 

“I may not be the best at this whole… relationship deal.” Shaw paused for a second, struggling to find the right words to express her thoughts appropriately. “But I think it should be clear by now that… I want to be with you,” the Persian continued, making eye contact with Root again. “And _only_ you.” Her grim stare turned into a softer one. “So, there’s no need for you to be jealous,” she assured. “I don’t do… flings anymore since… you know...” _Well, since our relationship became more than casual sex and number meet-ups._ She shook her head slightly. “I would never hurt you like this. Got it?”

 

Root swallowed, staring into the Persian’s sincere dark brown eyes for a moment. Then, she nodded. “Absolutely”, she replied quietly, believing every word Shaw had said. There was a moment of understanding silence between the two of them – and then Sameen was suddenly fisting the front of her shirt, pulling her more closely and pressing her lips against hers fiercely. Obviously, she felt the need to back up her words with actions – which was perfectly fine with Root.

 

At the contact, the flame of desire flared up inside the hacker’s gut, more than it already had until this point. Her hands ran over Shaw’s back, slightly pushing up her tank top when she reached the small of her back.

 

The Persian deepened the kiss, pushing her tongue inside Root’s mouth, feeling a familiar and pleasant warmth washing over her. She twisted the fabric of the hacker’s shirt in her hand, pulling her girlfriend more into her despite the awkward angle. Then, she bit Root’s lower lip until she heard a hiss.

 

Sameen hadn’t drawn blood, but apparently the bite made the hacker’s arousal shot up like a lightning bolt, because she got up on her knees on the bed and tried to push her girlfriend down on the mattress, lust darkening her eyes. However, the Persian didn’t give in. At least not yet. _Nope._ _No topping for you right now._ Shaw definitely planned on being in control for a little while longer. After all, she had _one more_ task at hand for tonight… _No idle threats, right?_

 

Therefore, Sameen suddenly stopped her girlfriend with one hand pressed firmly against her shoulder. The hacker eyed her questioningly and the Persian tilted her head slightly to one side. “You know, I still owe you a smacking,” she simply stated, accentuating her statement with a sharp slap on the hacker’s backside with her open palm.

 

Root let out a small yelp, admittedly more in surprise than in pain, and looked at Shaw with widened eyes. _Damn. She really wasn’t kidding._ “Way to kill the mood,” she muttered under her breath, despite her arousal remaining on the same level. She bit her lip, red and slightly swollen from kissing, for a second. “I’ve already told you that I’m sorry,” she argued.

 

Shaw hummed in reply. “Yeah, you did.” She shrugged. “But acting like a brat and an idiot definitely deserves some punishment in my book.” Root’s puppy dog eyes returned and there was a small pout on her flushed face. Sameen really was enjoying this.

 

The hacker swallowed. Her whole body floated on arousal right now and part of her _wanted_ Sameen to bend her over her knee and spank her thoroughly. However, the other part of her yelled ‘ _Nope!’_ loud and clearly. She really didn’t know what to make of these mixed feelings. “Then maybe you should ground me,” she quipped eventually in an attempt to hide her nervousness.

 

The Persian smirked dangerously, an excited glint in her eyes. _You little brat._ “And where’s the _fun_ in that?”

 

Root swallowed again. It was obvious that Shaw loved to be in control right now, playing with her, teasing her, getting under her skin. It aroused the hacker and it drove her mad at the same time. _Talk about mixed signals…_

 

Sensing that she wouldn’t get out of this easily, Root eventually sighed. If she was honest to herself, she _did_ feel guilty about giving into her jealousy earlier, threatening the number, jeopardizing the mission. Mistrusting Sameen. _Even just a little bit._ Maybe, the conviction of having paid for the mess she created would help her to feel better…

 

Root bit her lip once more, eyeing the other woman opposite of her questioningly. “Am I forgiven afterwards?” Was she really considering letting Sameen punish her? Spank her? Voluntarily? _God, I’m so whipped. Pun intended…_

 

Shaw smirked lightly at that, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind the hacker’s left ear with a gentle touch. “I’ve already forgiven you, silly.”

 

Root frowned at that. “Then… why the spanking?” she asked slightly confused while Shaw was already shifting her position, now sitting on the edge of the bed with both feet resting on the ground. A second later, she was guiding the hacker over her lap with a gentle but firm grip on her upper arm.

 

The Persian shrugged slightly while she pushed her girlfriend’s upper body into the mattress, pressing down on her back with her left hand. She took the fact that Root wasn’t resisting in any way as a sign that the hacker was submitting to this kind of punishment.

 

“Just a reminder not to jeopardize a mission with moronic behavior,” Shaw explained calmly. “And in your case experience tells me that the reminder has to to be physical to make the lesson stick.” Words didn’t really do the trick with Root most of the time. That was a fact. _What luck then that I’m a woman of action, right?_

 

Without any further premonition, Sameen’s hand came down hard on Root’s backside and the hacker tightened her fingers into the covers, a whimper escaping her throat as the skin underneath the fabric of her sweatpants sang under the impact.

 

A second smack came not a moment later, the force of it making the hacker’s body jerk in reaction. She gasped at the stinging pain that started to spread across her bottom. The third and then the fourth impact came down, and she had to fight against the urge to push herself up and wriggle off Sameen’s lap.

 

 _Fuck!_ Her girlfriend might not spanking her full force – at least Root thought so, because she could imagine that Shaw could smack her _much_ harder, if she wanted to – but it definitely weren’t love taps either. It was clear that Shaw wasn’t playing around anymore, but totally meant business right now.

 

Number five, six, seven and eight rained down in rapid succession and the hacker had to bit her lip to restrain herself from crying out in pain. Her sweatpants provided very little protection from Sameen’s hand, and it fucking hurt. _Damn!_ _Why the hell did I agree on this?!_ Root pushed herself up on her forearms, trying to get up instinctively.

 

“ _Nope_ , you’re not going anywhere right now.” Shaw’s voice was stern as her hand met the small of her girlfriend’s back, pressing her firmly back into the bed and her other collided with her ass repeatedly, the sound of the sharp smacks ringing around the bedroom. _Hurray for sound reductioned walls._ “We’re not done yet.”

 

Root clenched her fists and bit back a moan, doing her best to remain quiet as the spanking continued. If she already was lying over Sameen’s lap getting smacked like an unruly six year-old, then she definitely wouldn’t be whining like one. Although the stinging burn in her backside _did_ make it quite difficult for her to stick to the plan.

 

The hacker had realized long ago that a little pain could be an incredible turn-on. Therefore, the few smacks Shaw had doled out across her backside during their sexual encounters had definitely worked her up. But _this_ … well, this was different. This was all about punishment. This was about Sameen igniting a fire on her ass with stinging blows and Root not being in control of the situation. She couldn’t say that she enjoyed it much.

 

It was weird, really, because the hacker could be tortured for days and be fine with it, but being bend over Sameen’s lap and getting her bottom smacked, was almost too much for her to take right now. Not in the physical sense though – although it definitely hurt.

 

No, it was more of a psychological problem, because being spanked seemed to have the effect that Root’s mind was being overflooded with an enormous amount of emotions – all at once and quite more than usual, even by the hacker’s standards, almost overwhelming her. So, staying still and submitting to the punishing blows was quite an effort for Root, even though she felt that she deserved them. She simply trusted Sameen not to take it too far.

 

Shaw watched Root’s reactions closely as she delivered some more solid swats across the hacker’s behind. Despite her initial attempts to get off Sameen’s lap, Root had stopped struggling, submitting to the spanking completely now, just whimpering and gasping in pain occasionally.

 

To be honest, Shaw was quite amazed that Root hadn’t tased her as soon as she’d pulled her over her lap. (The Persian was sure that the hacker had at least one taser stored within reach in the nightstand at her side of the bed. – Not to mention the guns that lay under their respective pillows.)

 

Despite the fact that the Persian was much stronger than the hacker, and definitely would be able to overpower her if she wanted to, there was _no way_ Root would’ve let Sameen whack her like this – compliant and submissive –, if she hadn’t felt at least a tiny bit like she deserved it. Or if it turned her on. However, in this case, it was quite obvious that the hacker wasn’t enjoying the pain of a full blown spanking. Which was fine with Shaw. Because, where’d be the sense in a punishment, if Root liked it too much?

 

Nevertheless, it surprised the former ISA agent that the Machine’s Analog Interface could take bullets almost without flinching, but getting all squirmy at a simple spanking. _Full of surprises this one, huh?_

 

Shaw wasn’t smacking Root full force, ensuring that she wasn’t harming her. However, the swats were hard enough to drive the message home, and after a few minutes, it was quite noticeable that the hacker was really struggling to keep still over Sameen’s lap. Her breath was coming in rapid short spurts and her body was slightly trembling.

 

Shaw didn’t accidentally want to give Root more than she could handle, so she brought her palm down on the hacker’s backside a few more times and then rested her hand on her back in a soothing manner. For a moment, she looked down on her girlfriend’s form lying over her lap, taking in the silky chestnut waves that cascaded over her shoulders. _Wouldn’t surprise me, if one day L’Oréal asks her to do a commercial with them. What the hell does she do to get her hair this shiny?_

 

Sameen shook her head lightly at herself. Getting distracted by her girlfriend’s beauty – she really was as bad as Root…

 

“Lesson learned?” Shaw asked eventually, her voice surprisingly gentle in comparison to the hard and painful blows she’d dealed out just moments ago.

 

It took Root a few seconds to realize that the spanking was over and Sameen was talking to her. Her nervous system was still overloaded with burning sensation and it took her a few tries to answer verbally. “Yeah,” she replied eventually in a breathy voice, slightly nodding her head.

 

“Good,” the Persian said with a short nod. She could hear Root still struggling to get her breath back under control. “You okay?” Shaw, therefore, asked a moment later, patting the hacker’s back a bit awkwardly a few times, as the other woman didn’t make any attempt to get up. _Thought she’d want to leave this position as fast as possible…_

 

“Yeah… ’m fine,” Root mumbled, though it wasn’t very convincing. Her voice was quite shaky and Shaw could feel how her body was still tensed over her lap.

 

“You _sure_?” Sameen sounded a bit worried now. _Hope I didn’t hurt her more than it was intended…_ It definitely hadn’t been her intention to leave any lasting damage…

 

“ _Really_ , I’m okay, Sam.” The hacker’s voice was still quiet, but steadier now. “I just… need a minute.” The smacking Shaw had just dished out had been more forceful than Root had anticipated. Although she’d felt that she deserved the swats, it had been quite an effort to take them without much of a fuss. Therefore, now she felt not only physically but also emotionally drained, and she really needed a moment to pull herself together again, before facing Sameen.

 

Shaw hummed in reply, rubbing her girlfriend’s back in a comforting manner. “You know,” she said after a moment, “despite it being an idotic move, it _was_ kinda hot seeing you go all alpha male on the number.”

 

The hacker gave a low chuckle at this, despite her still burning bottom. “I _knew_ you secretly liked it.”

 

“Uh huh.” The Persian’s hand wandered lower, to the waistband of Root’s sweatpants, sliding under them. The hacker’s backside felt hot to touch even through the fabric of her underwear and Shaw felt a bit guilty for a second. _Just a tiny bit._ She gave her girlfriend’s curves a gentle squeeze and could hear Root’s breath hitch in reaction.

 

Sameen smirked. “And I think _you_ like _this_ ,” she said while she gently rubbed the sting out of the hacker’s backside with her palm.

 

Root sighed blissfully, feeling the tension leaving her body slowly at Shaw’s caressing touch. The angry heat was turning into a dull pain, and suddenly the feeling of arousal was back again. The hacker’s sighs were turning into quiet moans just a few moments later. Not in pain this time, but in pleasure.

 

“Oh yeah, you _definitely_ like this,” Shaw stated, grinning, letting her hand wander further, her fingertips dancing over the inside of Root’s left thigh eventually.

 

The hacker couldn’t suppress a whimper, leaning more into the touch. All her senses were still heightened from the spanking, the burning pain caused by the swats now overlayed by the tingling sensation of arousal. After being teased by Shaw’s wandering hand for a few moments, Root had the feeling that she would explode at any second if Sameen waited any longer at touching her where she needed her the most right now.

 

“Please…,” the hacker whined lowly. She usually wasn’t one to beg, but desperate situations required desperate measures. _Right?_

 

Hearing Root beg sent a jolt right to Sameen’s groin. She knew exactly what her girlfriend wanted and she’d be happy to deliver. Therefore, the Persian withdraw her hand and gently took Root by the upper arm, indicating for her to get up. The hacker complied, and a second later, she found herself lying on her back on the bed, Sameen over her.

 

Root sucked in a sharp breath as her still smarting bottom came in contact with the bed’s surface, but the pain was quickly forgotten as Shaw braced herself with one palm flat against the mattress, bent down and forced their lips together seconds later in a rough and hungry kiss. The hacker melted into it with a quiet moan in the back of her throat.

 

“I just want _you_ , okay?” the Persian muttered, when she broke the kiss for a moment. “ _Only_ you. Got it?” She’d said it before, but she felt that the hacker’s self esteem could use another little boost.

 

Root looked up in Sameen’s dark, lust filled eyes, breathing heavily because of her own arousal. Her lips curled into a little smile, sensing the truth in her girlfriend’s words. “Got it,” she replied.

 

“You better,” Sameen growled, good-naturedly. Pinning Root’s body on the bed with her own, Shaw slipped her hand between them, down the front of the hacker’s sweatpants. Her fingertips glided over the hacker’s cotton panties in a teasing manner and the Persian felt the dampness that was already soaking through the fabric. Root reacted with a roll of her hips, gasping in approval.

 

“Someone’s eager, huh?” Shaw muttered, a slight grin on her face as she stroked Root through her panties. She couldn’t deny that it gave her quite a kick having the usually perky hacker all hot and bothered underneath her, completely at her mercy.

 

Root replied with a small whimper, her mouth slightly open, looking up at Sameen with half-lidded eyes. She knew that Shaw could be quite a tease if she wanted to and on some occasions she’d even enjoyed it, but right now she really hoped that her girlfriend would cut this kind of foreplay already and go straight to fucking her senseless. _Yep, that would be great._

 

Sensing Root’s impatience, and not really having the patience for ‘torturing’ the woman underneath her any longer, Shaw captured the hacker’s lips again in a fierce kiss and let her hand slip down the front of Root’s panties, pressing two fingers against her opening. She was already wet as the ocean. Therefore, the Persian didn’t waste any more time and slid two fingers inside Root as she deepened the kiss, all lips and tongue.

 

A low moan escaped the back of Root’s throat, but she was quickly silenced by Shaw’s lips on her own. The Persian’s fingers were insistent, sliding in and out, fast and rough, the steady pressure of her palm teasing her clit. Soon Root was thrusting against her, searching for release. The burning in her backside morphed into a different kind of heat, spreading through her whole body, driving her to the edge.

 

Shaw finally came up for air and watched Root with bright eyes as she slipped a third finger inside, pumping in and out. The hacker rolled her head back against the mattress, face flushed and chest heaving as her breaths came out in ragged gasps, her mind almost going blank. It was amazing how Shaw knew her body so well by now. Knew just where to stroke her inside. When to go slow, when to thrust hard and fast to take her to the peak.

 

Sameen was taking Root with abandon now, loving the sweet sound of the moans and whimpers she was eliciting. Just a moment later, she was rewarded with a long, wavering moan as her girlfriend went over the edge.

 

Root’s whole body trembled as the orgasm rolled through her. Her backside still stung, but the pain was mixed with pleasure now, the feeling not quite bad. She understood why Sameen had been so firm with her, and although she couldn’t say that she’d enjoyed the discipline session over Shaw’s lap much, it surprisingly made her kind of feel cared for. Besides, there was no need to pout if the punishment was followed by mind-blowing sex…

 

Shaw looked down at Root, admiring those flushed cheeks and glazed eyes for a moment. _So beautiful…_ Then, she let her hand wander under the hacker’s shirt, fingertips gliding over a taut stomach. “Wanna go for round two?”

 

Root licked her lips. “Definitely,” she replied and grabbed Shaw’s wrist. “But first, I want to make you come too.”

 

The Persian gave an approving growl at that, then, she reached for the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out two items. Smiling darkly at the hacker under her, Sameen held out the two black zip ties. “Wanna test how much this headboard can take?”

 

Root simply smiled back. “Absolutely.”

 

\----------

 

A couple of rounds and some time later, both of them were lying under the covers, completely naked now because of their earlier activities. Root was lying on her stomach, trying to avoid any more pressure on her still sore backside, lazily letting her fingertips glide over the red marks on Sameen’s wrist from being zip tied earlier. “I’m surprised the headboard didn’t crack,” she said.

 

Sameen chuckled lowly. “Me too.” She scooted over, to press a light kiss against Root’s lips, and looked at her mischievously. “I think I should let you top me more often.”

 

Root looked at her incredulously. “ _Let_ me?” she echoed and gave a teasing smirk. “Darlin’, if I wanted to, I would top the living daylights out of you 24/7.”

 

“Yeah… You totally would,” the Persian answered, but grinned in a quite unconvinced manner nevertheless as she captured Root’s lips in another light kiss.

 

The hacker’s hazel eyes were staring at her thoughtfully as Shaw withdrew. “What’re we doing in terms of Diaz and Friday Fight Night? I mean, he maybe won’t get in touch with you, after I…” She trailed off.

 

Sameen gave a little smirk at that. “Well,” she replied, “apparently he thought that my _significant annoyance_ isn’t _that_ scary. He sent me an SMS when I was in the bathroom earlier – so, we’re still in the game for Friday.”

 

“Oh,” Root said, her facial expression turning into a small pout. “And I’ve still got a spanking…,” she mumbled under her breath.

 

“Yeah, because you _did_ deserve it,” Shaw replied. “Every single smack.” She gently pushed a strand of stray hair behind Root’s good ear. “Now go to sleep. We’ve got some work to do in the morning.”

 

The hacker still pouted, but nodded slightly then, resting her head more comfortably on the pillow and closing her eyes. Seconds later, she felt Sameen’s hand glide over her bare backside under the covers, and sighed at the soft touch.

 

Root was just about to nod off eventually when suddenly a single sharp smack against her still stinging bottom called her back into the present. “ _Ow_!” she yelped, startled, her eyes flying open and her head shooting up. “What the hell was _that_ for?” she asked, staring at her girlfriend indignantly.

 

Shaw just smirked at her. “For spying on me with the Machine’s help.” _Don’t think I don’t know how you’ve got your information._

 

Root just grumbled incoherently until Sameen silenced her with another kiss and an arm around her waist, pulling her girlfriend more into her. No, she wasn’t cuddling. _Nope._ It was just the easiest way to stop Root’s grumbling. _Yeah, that’s all._ Well, and maybe – just maybe – it was nice how the hacker visibly relaxed and snuggled into her.

 

_Just like a piece in the puzzle that fits perfectly into another one…_

 

They were both fast asleep within moments.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not completely satisfied with some parts of this chapter, but I’ve wanted to post it anyway. Hope, you don’t mind… ;) 
> 
> Please bear in mind that it wasn’t and isn’t my intention to describe some sort of abusive relationship, but rather a relationship that’s based on mutual respect and trust.


	14. Hit me with your best shot, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday Fight Night doesn’t go as planned for our two lovely ladies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys! Apparently, life happens and gets in the way of writing fan fiction. Well, it took me some time, but hopefully I can compensate for the long wait with an equally long chapter for you to read :)
> 
> Please leave your thoughts in the comments! You know, they’re a writer’s daily bread ;)
> 
> Warning: There’s explicit violence in this chapter and a ton of swear words.

 

* * *

 

 

This Wednesday morning at the NYPD 8th precinct had been particularly stressfull, and all Detective Lionel Fusco was craving for was some nice fast food and a quiet lunch break. So, after he bought himself a hot dog at the concession stand in front of the police station’s building, he just hoped that no nutjob would disturb his-

 

“Hello, Lionel.”

 

The detective gave a little jump, the hot dog sliding out of his hand. After having grabbed the fast food the last second before it could hit the ground, Fusco stared at the person, who’d just stepped out of the shadow of the snack bar, with a sour look on his face.

 

“ _Jesus Christ_! Do you _really_ have to do this every time?” The detective shook his head in mild annoyance. “You’re almost as bad as Tiny.”

 

Root gave a little smirk. “Your nicknames for me are getting better, Lionel,” she teased. “And, I learned from the best.”

 

Fusco shook his head again. “Yeah, yeah…” He eyed the hacker slightly wary for a moment. Despite his annoyance with her unexpected appearances, he was glad to see Root standing right in front of him, in a black coat, her wavy brown hair flowing over her shoulders, her face slightly flushed despite the cold weather.

 

For a second, the image of the hacker’s pale and lifeless body in the morgue flashed in front of Fusco’s eyes, and the detective blinked rapidly a few times to get rid of the image. _No, don’t think of it. She’s very much alive. That’s all what matters._

 

“Don’t think I’m not happy to see you, Cocoa Puffs,” Lionel said eventually and Root just smiled at the use of the familiar nickname, “but what do you want? Besides hanging around to give me a heart attack, obviously.”

 

Chuckling, the hacker tilted her head sideways. “Can’t a girl just say hello to an old friend?” she asked innocently.

 

Fusco just stared at her, waiting.

 

Root sighed. “Okay. Here’s the thing. We’ve got a new number and no clue if he’s the victim or the perp. Or both. We know that a friend of his died some time ago. Our number claims that he might’ve been murdered. So, we wanted to dig around a bit. See what comes out.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe there’s a connection.”

 

“I take it that you’re here because you want my help with the digging,” Fusco concluded.

 

The hacker gave him a smile that showed a bit of teeth. “Please? For old time’s sake?”

 

Certainly, the Machine – or Root herself – could’ve hacked into the police database in seconds and retrieved the respective files, but since Reese was gone and Finch had left for good, the hacker had felt the need to get Fusco involved in their number cases if possible.

 

However, it wasn’t just work-related thinking that made Root search for the detective’s help. _No._ If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that the need to stay in contact with Fusco came from the deeper desire to hold together this strange little family they’d become somehow. Being a misanthrope to the core, there were just a few people in the whole world the former killer for hire actually cared about. _Strangely, one curly haired NYPD detective with a liking for silly nicknames is one of them._

 

The detective just rolled his eyes, good-naturedly. “Alright. I see what I can do.”

 

Root’s smile just grew bigger. “Thanks, Lionel. You’re a sweetheart.”

 

Fusco shook his head. “Yeah, yeah…,” he muttered once again as he turned to go back to the precinct, Root in tow. He furrowed his brows. “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

The hacker raised her eyebrows in return. “To the precinct. With you,” she replied.

 

The detective shook his head. “No. _Nope._ ” His face was serious now. “I said that I’ll see what I can do. And I will. But you’re _not_ coming with me.” He ignored the little pout Root gave him. “I’ve just got a new partner and after all this crazy shit that went down with this War of the Machines my every move will be watched. I’ll help you, but I’m not going to risk my job. _Again_.” A little pause. “I’ll have to pay my son’s college education soon, you know?”

 

Root didn’t react immediately, but got this far away look that she always got when the Machine talked to her. Fusco furrowed his brows andopened his mouth to say something, but the hacker cut him off, a curious look on her face. “Dani Silva’s your new partner?”

 

The detective nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“She was a number you and John saved.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

“Yeah. She transferred from the Gang Division to Homicide after John…” He trailed off, not in the mood to broach the subject. Officially, Detective John Riley was killed while trying to prevent a terrorist attack. _Well, it’s not_ that _far from the truth. Either way, Wonder Boy died a hero._

 

Fusco cleared his throat. “Anyway, I assume that your Machine told you that Silva was Internal Affairs formerly.” The hacker nodded. “So, she’ll definitely know when I do things behind her back. And she’ll _definitely_ ask questions when I return from lunch break with you in tow, alright?”

 

Root just smiled and pulled something from her coat’s inside pocket. “Well, then it’s a luck, I’ve got this, right?” With a flick of her wrist, she opened a badge, which identified her as Special Agent Augusta King with the FBI.

 

Fusco groaned. “You’ve still got this?” He knew that the badge was real and that the crazy hacker was trying to force her way into the precinct with it – and a cocky smile on her face.

 

Root just shrugged. “Thought it would come in handy again one day. And _voilà_ …” She grinned.

 

The detective looked at her deadpan. “And you don’t think that it would raise a hellavu lot of questions when a FBI agent suddenly jumps around the precinct and prys into a maybe-maybe-not-homicide?”

 

The hacker frowned. _Damn, he’s right. Maybe I didn’t think this through…_ The next second, however, she conjured up a second badge, shoving it into the detective’s face with her trademark smirk. “Luckily then, I’ve got this.”

 

Staring at the passport photo of the brunette woman, Fusco furrowed his brows. “Drew Bennett?” he read. “Private investigator? You gotta be kidding me.”

 

Root shook her head. “No, I’m not.” She slid the badge back in her coat pocket. “Think about it, Lionel. If someone asks, then I can tell them that I’m investigating a death under suspicious circumstances. I’ll just tell them that a friend of the victim hired me. That’s as close to the truth as possible.”

 

Realizing that the hacker wouldn’t give up anytime soon, the detective sighed. _Damn this crazy woman._ “Alright,” he said eventually, walking towards the building of the 8th precinct, a pleased Root at his side, “you can come with me. But try not to attract attention too much, okay?”

 

“Will do,” the hacker assured Fusco with a smile and a sloppy salute.

 

The detective just rolled his eyes. _God, who am I kidding? This woman’s like the fucking center of attention every time she arrives on the scene. Why do I already have this feeling that I’ll regret this?_

 

“Uhm, Lionel…?” Root’s voice came from his side again a moment later.

 

“What?”

 

“You’ve got mustard on your collar.”

 

_Great. Damn great._

 

\-----

 

Sameen Shaw was sipping on her cup of hot coffee to keep herself warm in the the slowly cooling down black BMW 5 she sat in. She had tailed Cain Diaz once again this morning, following him to an apartment building in the Bronx. The Machine had told her that Santiago Perez, Cain’s dead friend, had been living there. Obviously, Diaz was actually investigating his friend’s death. _Or he’s getting rid of evidence…_

 

Shaw shook her head slowly in thought. Her gut told her that Diaz didn’t have anything to do with his friend’s passing away – at least not actively – and that he really was trying to uncover the truth. She couldn’t follow the number into the apartment building without risking to be seen and blow her cover. That’s why she’d been sitting in the car for the last half an hour, staring at the live feed the Machine was sending at her smartphone.

 

The ASI had obviously hacked the camera of the Smart TV in Perez’ apartment. As a result, Sameen could watch the number going through his dead friend’s things and documents, seemingly in search of a hint why Santiago Perez was dead. So far, he didn’t seem to be successful.

 

“Why didn’t his family clear out his apartment already?” Shaw asked into the silence of the rental car, a bit confused, knowing that their invisible all-seeing friend could hear her over the comms. “I mean, it’s been _weeks_ since his death.”

 

 _“They apparently didn’t have the heart to do it yet,”_ the Machine replied quietly in her ear. _“Clearing out one’s apartment means acknowledging that the person is really gone. They’re maybe not ready for this yet.”_

 

The former ISA agent nodded slowly, remembering the day she’d went back to the destroyed subway after the final fight against Samaritan had been over. Thinking that her crazy hacker friend was dead and gone, Shaw had went to the little alcove, where Root had spent her time in between covers, and taken some of the hacker’s stuff with her, like that absolutely ugly bat pillow and the lava lamp. The former ISA agent wasn’t usually one for sentimentalism, but it had felt right to take care for the things Root had liked. At that time, it had felt like closure to Sameen.

 

“Makes sense,” she muttered. She then took another sip of her coffee and stretched her legs a bit. The number didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Time to call her other half and ask if she’d found out something important.

 

“Root?” Shaw asked, after having tapped her earpiece.

 

\-----

 

The Machine’s Analog Interface was currently hovering over Fusco’s shoulder, while the detective was opening some files on his computer.

 

Fusco looked up at the brunette hacker, slightly annoyed. “You’re making me nervous. Can’t you just sit down for a moment?” Luckily, his new partner, Dani Silva, wasn’t back from her lunch break yet, and the detective was glad that he didn’t have to answer any curious questions for now. Hopefully, it would stay this way. _If Lazarus here wouldn’t draw so much attention…_ Thank God, the precinct was as good as empty with almost everyone out for lunch time.

 

Above that, after the numerous police deaths, thanks to Samaritan and the digital apocalypse, almost all the faces in the bullpen were new. It was kind of sad. However, with most people still being quite unfamiliar with each other there were a lot less questions about what was going on at someone’s desk. Fusco could live with that.

 

A strange look, that the detective couldn’t quite place, flashed over Root’s face for a second. She shook her head lightly then, but stood up nevertheless and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d rather be standing.” She stepped back a little bit and gave Fusco a smirk. “See? Enough space for you, detective.”

 

While Fusco went back to his computer, grumbling lowly, Shaw’s voice was suddenly in Root’s good ear.

 

_“Root?”_

 

“Hey, Sweetie,” the hacker answered, her lips curling into a little smile.

 

Fusco’s head went in her direction, a questioning look on his face. “Tiny?”

 

Root cocked an eyebrow at the question. “Do you know another person I’d give a pet name like this?” _Well, maybe besides the Machine. But she’s not exactly a person…_

 

This earned her an eye roll from the detective and a groan from Sameen on the other side of the line.

 

_“To the point, Root. Any new info?”_

 

“Yeah,” the hacker replied. “Lionel was so nice to open the police report regarding Santiago Perez’ death for me.”

 

_“And?”_

 

Root shrugged slightly, although Sameen couldn’t see it, hovering over Fusco’s shoulder again to get a better look at the file on his computer. The detective decided to let it slide this time. “Well, here’s the info the Machine already told us. Santiago Perez, 37 years old, single, no children. Former Marine Corporal, in the same unit as Diaz. His parents and his sister are living here in New York.”

 

She scrolled down a bit. “Police report says that Perez was found dead in an ally in the Bronx six weeks ago. No witnesses, no cameras. Coroner said that the COD was immense bleeding of the brain. Blunt force trauma.”

 

_“Yeah. Our number’s told me the same.”_

 

“The officers interviewed his sister, Sofia, after she’d identified her brother. She told them that he was involved in some underground MMA fights for some time and that he also participated in a fight the night he died….”

 

_“So they jumped to conclusions.”_

 

The hacker nodded slightly. “They jumped to the conclusion that the blunt force trauma did happen during the fight. Sad, but an accident.” She scrolled further through the report. “Our number, Cain, obviously made a statement, too. It says here that he expressed his doubts regarding his friend’s death. He told the officers that Perez might’ve been murdered, but apparently, for them the case was closed. They didn’t investigate further.”

 

Fusco frowned at this. “You don’t think it was an accident?”

 

Root shrugged. “The number said that Perez had called him after the fight and that he’d sounded fine.”

 

“Could’ve been a late effect from the fight,” the detective threw in.

 

“Sure. But isn’t it a bit suspicious that Diaz’ number came up the second he started his own investigations?” Root clicked through the report, but there wasn’t any more info they didn’t already know.

 

Fusco hummed. “And what’re you and Shaw going to do now?”

 

“Well, mostly surveillance. We bluejacked Diaz’ phone. The Machine’s surveiling our number with Sameen’s help. She’s following his every move right now.” She tilted her head to one side slightly. “Right, Sweetie?”

 

There was a hum on the other side of the line. Then, _“Our number’s obviously searching Perez’ apartment for any clues, but it doesn’t seem as if he’s been successful so far. Hope he does find anything soon or just leave. I’m freezing my ass off in this cold.”_

 

Root’s lips curled into a little smirk at Sameen’s grumpy tone. “I can come by and warm you up,” she suggested, voice full of innuendo, causing Fusco to scrunch his face up at her. There was a huff on Shaw’s side, then the line disconnected. The hacker shrugged nonchalantly. “Shame.”

 

The detective shook his head. He was happy for his two female friends. He really was. However, that didn’t mean that he was keen on witnessing the crazy hacker’s innuendos and overt come-ons permanently from a front row seat.

 

“So… MMA underground fights,” Fusco stated eventually. “You two think that Perez’ death is connected to them somehow?”

 

Root nodded. “Yeah, it’s possible. Sameen already got an invitation for a fight on Friday through Diaz. If nothing’s happening ‘til then, we maybe can shed some light on the matter there.”

 

Fusco’s brows shot up. “These MMA fights are some real dangerous stuff,” he warned.

 

The hacker chuckled lowly at this, however, without any real humor behind it. She crossed her arms over her chest once more. “Thanks for your concern, Lionel. But Sameen and I aren’t really new to this jo-” The rest of the sentence was swallowed by her sudden hiss of pain.

 

Fusco forrowed his brows for the umpteenth time this day. “You okay?” The hacker had leaned herself against the table while talking, but seemed to have regretted it when her backside had come in contact with the furniture.

 

“Just fine,” Root replied through gritted teeth, not quite able to hide her wince of pain fully. She, apparently, had forgotten about her still sore backside being the reason why she hadn’t wanted to sit down in the first place.

 

Fusco just eyed his hacker friend with a mix of concern and suspicion. “ _Fine_?” he repeated, unconvinced, cocking one brow questioningly. “Well, sorry to say that, Cocoa Puffs, but you don’t look fine right now.” He tilted his head to one side slightly, furrowing his brows. “Tiny kicked your ass, or what?”

 

Root’s eyes widened slightly and there was a blush on her cheeks suddenly as she stared at Fusco, uncharacteristically speechless for a moment. _Well, that’s awkward..._ “Uhm…,” she muttered, not quite looking at the detective. “ _Actually_ , it was less _kicking_ but more-“

 

“Oh, _geez_!” Fusco cut her off with a hiss. Sensing that his words apparently had been closer to the truth than he would’ve preferred, the detective just scrunched up his face again and shook his head vigorously. “I _really_ don’t wanna know, _okay_?!”

 

The hacker just gave him an awkward lopsided smirk.

 

Lionel just sighed in mild annoyance, rolling his eyes. _Freaks! Yep, I’m working with freaks._

 

\-----

 

Meanwhile, the number had left his dead friend’s apartment, clearly without having found anything useful. Watching his body language observantly, Shaw could see that Diaz was frustrated. The Persian’s gaze followed him as the MMA trainer got in his dark blue SUV, which he’d parked on the other side of the street.

 

“Let’s see where you’re heading now, Cain,” Sameen muttered to herself as Diaz’ drove away. The Persian started the engine and followed seconds later, leaving some distance between her car and the number’s.

 

Neither Sameen nor the Machine were aware of the person in the shadow of a building taking pictures of the former ISA agent and her vehicle.

 

\-----

 

After Root had left Fusco at the precinct, she’d headed to the Library, which served as their new HQ. She’d even detoured to get Bear from their apartment to keep her company.

 

Right now, the dog was happily jumping around the hideout, chasing after a tennis ball the hacker had brought with her.

 

“Good boy,” Root murmured as Bear shoved the ball into her hand, eagerly waiting for her to throw it again. And the hacker did – much to the dog’s delight. Root smiled when Bear jumped after the ball, yipping with excitement.

 

For a moment, the hacker’s thoughts wandered back to her childhood days in Bishop. There had been phases when she’d wanted a pet. Like a cat or a dog. Or just a hamster. But her mother had always refused to let a pet into their trailer. Root thought that in retrospect it might’ve been better this way. For the animal.

 

Nevertheless, there had been days in Root’s early childhood when her mother had taken her to the zoo in Corpus Christi. Little Samantha had looked at all the exotic animals in amazement, trying to remember all their names. Sometimes she’d gotten some ice cream too. Those had been good times – days when her mother had been in her right mind, enough to care about her daughter. However, years had went by and there had been less and less good days and an increasingly amount of bad days.

 

Root shook her head slightly. She didn’t really want to think about those times now, but couldn’t keep the memories from flooding her mind nevertheless. The bad things she’d experienced as a child had solidified the idea that the world was in fact a cold place and that most people were just bad code. That they were selfish, small-minded and cruel.

 

Even after finding the Machine and a few human beings she actually cared about – with a petite and grumpy Persian leading the way –, Root’s philosophy on people was still quite the same. Just maybe not _that_ straight-forward anymore. She’d always found solace in computers, which she understood a lot more than the sorry flesh-and-blood sacks that used them.

 

Root couldn’t say that she really _understood_ animals. However, in her opinion they were much better than most of the human race. Simply lacking moral standards by nature, an animal would never use you like a human being would do. There weren’t base motives for animals to deceive you, to betray you, to kill you.

 

Petting Bear on the head, Root gave a little sigh. Animals were easy. And people were difficult. _And ASIs – well…_ The hacker looked over to the pile of PlayStations whirring softly in the corner. The Machine hadn’t talked to her since last nights events. Although she knew that the ASI didn’t get angry or hold grudges like a human might, Root was wondering if She was indeed sulking because Her Analog Interface had almost fallen back into her old killer habits.

 

However, as if She could read her mind, the ASI’s voice was in the hacker’s good ear a moment later. _„You seem to be in thought.“_ The words sounded soft.

 

The brunette woman glanced over to the webcam installed on one of the computers. „Look who’s talking to me again,“ she teased, a small smirk playing around her lips.

 

 _„Well,“_ the ASI replied, _„last night you seemed to be… occupied.“_

 

For the second time today, Root felt herself blushing. _Damn, what’s wrong with me?_ she thought. She normally didn’t do embarassment – usually feeling way to indifferent about what others might think about her. And she’d never really had a problem with the Machine invading her privacy. _Until now, apparently._ She’d even planted the hidden cam in their bedroom by herself – and not just out of pure intention to increase the safety measures in their apartment.

 

Every action that had went on between Root and Shaw in their bedroom for the last few months had definitely been a private show for the ASI. However, nothing they’d done would‘ve made the reformed contract killer blush – with the exception of last night’s _Taming of the Shrew._ Shaw-style. _Strange…_

 

 _„This morning you’ve seemed quite busy, too,“_ the Machine went on, thankfully not elaborating on last night’s events further. _„So, I thought I’d use this quiet moment to let you know that I’m still here for you.“_

 

The hacker smiled at the webcam. Her relationship with the Machine might’ve been slightly different since her faked death, not quite as overjoyed and enthusastic as it had been before. Nevertheless, to be on good terms with the ASI, to still have a special and kind of intimate relationship with the all-seeing entity was an important part of Root’s existence she wouldn’t have wanted to miss.

 

„Thank you,“ the Analog Interface replied softly. She really meant it.

 

There was a little pause, then, _„So, may I ask what you were thinking about?“_

 

Root gave a little shrug and squatted down beside Bear to run her hands through his fur. The dog thanked her with a short lick across her nose, causing the hacker to scrunch up her face slightly, a small giggle escaping her throat. She rubbed Bear behind the ears and the dog happily wagged his tail.

 

“I’ve just thought… how life’s always evolving in directions you didn’t really see coming. As a child, I’ve always wanted a pet, but never got one. And now I kind of have a dog.” Bear gave a low whine as if he was agreeing with her. “And Sameen…” Root shook her head slightly. “I never would’ve thought that I would fall madly in love with another person someday.”

 

It wasn’t that the former killer for hire hadn’t been able to feel love before. No, it was more the fact that for the vast majority of her life she hadn’t met another human being that she’d thought worth of opening up to. Root never had been one to do things half-assed, always taking it to the extreme. Whatever she did, she’d always threw herself fully into it, allowing herself to feel every single emotion. It usually made her extraordinarily good at what she did.

 

However, this kind of commitment had its downside too, because it made the hacker vulnerable. One thing that Root had learned as a child was the simple fact that if you let people in, they’re most likely to hurt you. Separating herself from the rest of humanity had always been easier. As a result, Root’s kind of always been a loner.

 

Sure, during her hacker and then killer for hire days she’d bonded with people when she had to, however, usually to use them to her advantage. To get a job done and then move on. She very rarely had found herself wanting for human interaction extending beyond this.

 

On some occasions though, the hacker had desired human contact of another variety. However, despite being quite an attractive woman, the number of people Root had had sex with was low and she’d only slept with women. The hacker could remember only _one time_ in the past that she’d developed some kind of deeper feelings for a woman she’d been sharing a bed with for some time when one of her jobs had lead her to Osaka, Japan.

 

Root had been 25 at that time, already having gained quite some reputation in the hacker scene, but being still rather new to the whole contract killer business. Admittedly, seducing the daughter of a Yakuza mob boss hadn’t been one of Root’s smarter moves. It hadn’t ended well…

 

The hacker shook her head as if she could get rid of the bad memories this way. After having survived a bloodbath out of more luck than anything else, Root had left Osaka for good, vowing to herself not to be so stupid again to care about another person. She’d lived by that rule for years without problems. Well, and then there’d been one tiny Persian firecracker…

 

Retrospectively, Root knew that finding Shaw had been a major turning point for her. She’d found something in her that she had never found in any other person in the world. And, as she’d said to Sameen in the safe house before all hell had broken loose and she’d almost died, she really felt like she belonged for the first time in her life.

 

 _“I’m happy for you,”_ the Machine said warmly in the hacker’s ear and Root smiled.

 

“What about that code we’ve talked about a few days ago?” she asked after a moment of silence, getting up from her crouched position. “Want to work on it together for a while?”

 

_“I would really appreciate that.”_

 

Root nodded, smiling, and carefully lowered herself into the office chair at the desk, well aware of her still smarting backside.

 

Watching her slow and cautious movements through the webcam, the ASI asked, _“Does it still hurt?”_

 

The hacker could feel her cheeks growing hot once more and she looked down on the keyboard in front of her, an awkward lopsided smirk on her face. “Well, not as much as I think it could,” she replied. “But, let’s just say that Sameen has a really hard handwriting…”

 

 _"Then maybe you shouldn’t land yourself on Primary Asset Shaw’s bad side too often,”_ the Machine helpfully suggested.

 

This caused the hacker to look up at the webcam and grin mischievously. “Mh, and where’d be the _fun_ in that?” Still smirking, she began to work on some code strings.

 

\-----

 

When Shaw finally went into their new library hideout, it was already dark outside. She’d been following the number across the city. Diaz had paid a visit to Perez’ sister, Sofia, apparently to ask her some questions about the circumstances of his friend’s death. After leaving Sofia’s apartment and buying some takeout, Diaz had went home und stayed there since. So, Sameen had decided to go home too, when the Machine had informed her that Root and Bear were at the Library.

 

The former ISA agent found her girlfriend slouched over a computer, squinting at the screen despite the glasses on her nose, her fingers flying over the keyboard with swift movements. When Root worked on something, it was as if she was in another world. Sometimes she was so concentrated that she didn’t even notice what was happening around her.

 

Right now, Root was so engulfed in her work that she didn’t realize that Sameen had just come in. The Machine obviously hadn’t informed the hacker of Shaw’s presence either.

 

For a moment, the former ISA agent was pleased with the fact that she could sneak up on Root like this. Then, it occurred to her that probably someone with less good intentions could get the drop on the hacker, too, if she didn’t have the Machine in her ear to warn her if necessary. Her first encounter with Control had left Root deaf on her right ear, and it didn’t help that she kind of zoned out when she was in hacker code land. _Damn. The girl needs to work on her alertness…_

 

When Bear got up from his dog bed with a happy woof, trotting over to the Persian to greet her, the hacker jumped slighty. She looked up from her work finally, seemingly a little startled, pushing her glasses up her nose with her index finger.

 

Shaw couldn’t help staring at her girlfriend for a moment. _This librarian look’s definitely sexy._

 

“Hey, Sweetie,” Root greeted her with a light smile.

 

"Hey,” Shaw replied, dropping the bag with Chinese takeout she’d gotten them for dinner on the table. Then, she petted Bear on the head, murmuring something about him being her favorite big man, causing the dog to wag his tail exuberantly. She snatched a bag with dog food from one of the shelves, filling the Belgian Malinois’ bowl with kibble. Seconds later, Bear was munching happily.

 

Shaw smiled slightly while she shed off her peacoat. _Time to feed my other roomie…_ The former Marine opened up the takeout containers with fried rice, Szechuan beef and orange chicken. Shaw felt her mouth water at the delicious smell that filled her nose and expectantly looked over at Root, who was deeply absorbed in the world of coding again.

 

Usually, Sameen had no idea what the hacker was working on. It wasn’t like the ex-ISA agent didn’t have some computer skills herself, but she never had the ease with them that Root did. Sometimes, the hacker _did_ try to explain to Shaw what she was doing in detail, going into full nerd mode.

 

Despite secretly thinking that Root being nerdy was kinda sexy, truly, to Sameen it was like she was speaking another language. However, the one thing the Persian knew for sure was that the work her girlfriend did helped the Machine to function better and possibly saved lives implicitly. _That’s good enough._

 

Unfortunately, Root had the bad habit to simply forgetting to eat sometimes when she was deep in the world of ones and zeros. Therefore, caring about the hacker meant for Shaw to remind her girlfriend that she was indeed a human being that needed to take in some calories from time to time.

 

“Come on, Root, eat something,” Shaw said. “I’ve brought orange chicken.” She knew that the hacker loved this dish. However, it seemed that tonight even the temptation of her favorite meal couldn’t pry the woman loose from her computer.

 

The Machine’s Analog Interface just gave a low hum. “Thanks…,” she muttered, absent-mindedly, still staring at the screen in front of her, her fingers clacking away on the keyboard.

 

“Root, take a break before you fall off your chair,” Sameen tried again after a moment, her brows furrowing in slight irritation.

 

“Mhm… just… a second…” It sounded as if the hacker was talking more to herself than to Shaw.

 

_Okay. Time to haul out the big guns…_

 

“Root!” This time the way Sameen articulated her girlfriend’s name was more a harsh bark than anything else, with an emphasis on the ‘t’. And it had the desired effect – it made the hacker look up again, her attention fully on Shaw now.

 

“If you don’t put your work aside _right now_ and eat something, I’ll come over and drag your sorry ass over here personally,” the former Marine threatened, accompanying her words with a glare in Root’s direction.

 

The hacker looked slightly abashed, a light tint of red on her cheeks, Shaw’s threat sending a frisson along her spine. “Well, as tempting as that sounds, I think my ass is still sorry enough from last night,” she replied, the slight pout in her voice audible.

 

Shaw couldn’t help the smirk that spread on her face. “Well, that means I’ve done something right, doesn’t it?”

 

Root huffed, glaring at her girlfriend in fake annoyance for a moment. She wasn’t really mad at Sameen for spanking her the night before, even though the blows _had_ hurt quite a bit.

 

Sensing that Shaw’s patience already was reaching its limits, Root eventually took off her glasses and got up, stepping over to the improvised dinning table. Lowering herself onto one of the chairs carefully, she gave a little hiss as her sore backside made contact with the, thankfully, cushioned surface of the seat. She looked up at Shaw with an irritatingly effective puppy pout on her face that made the former ISA operative almost feel guilty about laying a hand on the hacker the night before. Well, _almost_.

 

The Persian thought Root’s trademark puppy pout was somewhat adorable. Of course, she certainly wouldn’t let her know this though. Instead, Shaw put the container with orange chicken along with a pair of chopsticks in front of the taller woman.

 

“Eat,” Sameen demanded, her tone of voice more friendly than before, as she sat down herself and began to shovel fried rice and beef into her own mouth. “I know that you haven’t eaten anything substantial the whole day.” Kindly, the Machine gave her regular updates on her girlfriend’s eating habits, which, in Shaw’s opinion, were catastrophic. _To put it mildly._

 

“I’ve had an apple. And a granola bar,” Root argued and Sameen just looked at her deadpan. _Yep, catastrophic._

 

“Like I’ve said – nothing substantial.”

 

The hacker just hummed, but picked up the chopsticks nevertheless, digging into the food. She had to admit that she actually _was_ a bit hungry and the first bite of the orange chicken told her that Sameen’s choice of meal had been perfect. “ _Damn_ , that’s good,” Root said, munching away.

 

Shaw just smiled, satisfied with the fact that the woman for once wasn’t picking at her food like an archaeologist unearthing ancient bones.

 

After eating in silence for a few moments, the hacker eventually asked, “Anything interesting happened with our number?” Root knew that Sameen or the Machine would’ve told her sooner if anything extraordinarily had happened during the day, but she was in the mood to chat and their current number was a good topic to start with.

 

Shaw shook her head lightly. “After searching Perez’ apartment, he paid a visit to the sister, Sofia. I think both was quite fruitless.” Her own frustration with the undissolved situation was clearly apparent.

 

Root hummed and cocked her head while the Machine whispered in her ear, her eyes getting a far away look. “She says that our number’s at home now,” she stated, her eyes gaining focus again.

 

The former ISA agent nodded. “Yeah.” She shrugged, dropping her chopsticks into her now empty takeout container. Not for the first time, Root wondered how someone could eat _that_ fast.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, but I’d wish that something would happen already. I hate this fucking waiting”, Shaw said.

 

Root nodded, understanding. This number case had been dragging on for some time and it began to strain both their patience and nerves. She shrugged, tilting her head slightly and looking at Sameen in a playfully innocent way. “Well, if you both would’ve let me shoot him…”

 

Shaw glared at her and the hacker just shrugged again, grinning mischievously. “Just kidding.”

 

“Uh huh…” The former ISA operative wasn’t quite convinced.

 

The taller woman shook her head slightly, still a smirk on her face. “As if you haven’t thought about it yourself for a second or two.” _Don’t think I don’t know you, Sameen Shaw._

 

The Persian shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “But, my motives would’ve been quite different than yours, obviously.”

 

 _Fair enough._ “Obviously,” Root agreed. After a beat, “Maybe we’ll find out something useful during Friday Fight Night.”

 

Shaw nodded. “I hope so. Honestly, I look forward to some action.”

 

The hacker furrowed her brows. “Didn’t get enough action during your training sessions with Diaz?” Her voice held just a tiny hint of something that could’ve been jealousy. After the night before, Root was definitely smarter now.

 

“Nah,” Sameen replied, shaking her head, “I meant action that actually involves shooting someone’s kneecaps. Minimum.” She tilted her head slightly, an excited glint in her eyes and a grin on her face. “But, a little cage fight won’t be bad either.”

 

A small frown appeared on Root’s forehead. Unlike Shaw, the hacker wasn’t looking forward to an underground MMA fight with _that_ much enthusiasm. Sure, she loved to see her girlfriend in action. After all, Root knew that her tiny Persian firecracker could hold her own in a fight, being perfectly trained in hand to hand combat and having lots of experience.

 

However, there’d be enough risks. They still had absolutely no clue who would wanted to kill their number – or if Diaz would be the perpetrator himself after all. The venue, where the fights would go down on Friday, would be completely unfamiliar to them, although Root already knew that the building located near the Manhattan Bridge was an old warehouse.

 

She also knew the Machine wouldn’t be much of a help because the place lacked any security cameras. She’d already checked that too. Above that, they had no clue who Sameen’s opponent would be.

 

Root had no doubt that her girlfriend would hammer anyone, who’d be stupid enough to fight against her, into the ground with ease. Nevertheless, there’d always be some rest risk. Admittedly, it made the hacker quite uneasy. “You’ll be careful, Sam, okay?” she blurted out, the look on her face and the intensity behind her soft brown eyes telling Shaw that she was serious for once.

 

 _She’s worried._ _Huh…_ The Persian was a bit surprised by that discovery. The way Root typically dealt with danger, acting quite reckless most of the time as if her instinct of self-preservation hadn’t completely developed, made her forget sometimes that for the hacker it was totally another matter when it came to a person she cared about. Which, by the way, weren’t many. _As if she’s the only one allowed to place herself in danger and get hurt. Fucking hypocrite._

 

Shaw had also noticed that Root seemed to be a tiny bit more cautious in general after she’d… well, came back from the dead. _Dying, or almost dying, apparently can do this to people._

 

Sameen’s initial reaction was to roll her eyes and tell her hacker girlfriend that there was no need to worry. However, after all the shit they’d been through, Sameen decided that the other woman didn’t deserve to be snubbed for honestly voicing her concern. Therefore, the former ISA operative just put her hand over Root’s on the table in a comforting gesture.

 

“Will do,” she assured softly, her dark eyes meeting the hacker’s lighter ones as she gently grazed the back of Root’s hand with her thumb. A simple gesture the Persian most likely wouldn’t have done with any other person. _But Root isn’t any other person, right?_

 

The taller woman looked a bit surprised for a second, then reacted with a small smile playing around her lips. Despite the fact that the touch clearly wasn’t meant to be sexual, Shaw’s caressing send a pleasant shiver down the hacker’s spine and a warm feeling was spreading in her lower abdomen. It was amazing how Sameen could spark Root’s desire with just one simple touch. Or even just a look.

 

Feeling a shift in the air, taking in how her girlfriend’s pupils dilated and how her breath hitched just slightly, Shaw had to suppress a smirk. She’d always thought that her own sex drive was pretty high. However, it was nothing compared to Root’s libido. The hacker was quite good at hiding her genuine feelings, most of the time pretending to be somebody else with all these cover identities.

 

For most people it would be practically impossible to differ between Root playing a role and her being her real self. Nevertheless, by now, to Shaw Root was an open book. And the petite Persian knew for sure that her crazy hacker girlfriend was as horny as a teenage boy around her most of the time. Right now wasn’t an exception, obviously, and the Persian woman had to admit that Root’s longing gaze made her own arousal flare up.

 

Gently, Sameen let her fingertips wander up Root’s arm and the curve of her shoulder, over the fabric of her shirt, to let her hand caress the hacker’s left cheek eventually. For a second, Shaw thought of leaning in for a kiss, but then decided against it. Most likely, trying to kiss the hacker would have been awkward because of the weird angle they were sitting at the table. Instead, the Persian got up from her seat, stepping behind Root.

 

The hacker furrowed her brows in confusion, already about to turn around to follow the Persian with her gaze. “What are you-?”

 

Sameen shushed her, stilling her movements with a hand in her neck suddenly. However, instead of getting rough now, Shaw gently moved Root’s wavy brown hair to the right side of her neck so she could reach the other side without problems.

 

Seconds later, the hacker felt her girlfriend’s lips kissing the left side of her neck lightly. Closing her eyes for a moment, Root sighed in pleasure. The soft touch of Sameen’s lips moving over her skin sent shivers through her whole body. Nice ones. _Holy Machine, that feels good!_

 

Although both women preferred foreplay and sex that was hard and rough most of the time, they weren’t completely foreign to more gentle varieties. There were times for both, and Shaw had decided that right now was the time for the latter. Apparently, much to Root’s delight.

 

The hacker was tilting her head so that her girlfriend could reach her neck better. She whimpered softly as Shaw sucked on the skin below her left ear, her right hand buried in Root’s rich wavy hair. The Persian let her lips glide over the rim of Root’s ear then, noticing her still wearing an earpiece.

 

“Having your implant surgery soon?” Shaw whisperingly asked between light kisses. Root had told her that she’d have liked a new CI in her head to have a steady connection with the Machine again. The Persian asset hadn’t been delighted at the thought of Root going through another surgery, but the hacker had argued that it was a necessary procedure to improve her field work.

 

Even though the argument had been consistent, Shaw knew that there was another reason for Root to want a new cochlear implant ‘upgrade’. The hacker might’ve wished for herself to be a more effective asset again, but Sameen was sure that Root also wanted to feel complete again.

 

Losing her hearing in her right ear during Control’s torture had been harder for the hacker than she’d let on. However, she’d come to terms with it, accepting the loss as a price she’d paid for being the Machine’s Analog Interface. Although she didn’t have a CI for most of her life, Root now felt kinda incomplete without one. As soon as Shaw had realized this, she’d supported her girlfriend’s efforts to get a new device surgically implanted.

 

Root hummed affirmatively a second later. “I have an appointment next week.” _This time without threatening an otolaryngologist for a change._ The statement was followed by a low moan as Shaw pulled at her hair, a firm but not rough tug, and let her teeth glide over the point of her pulse simultaneously. It drove Root mad. And Sameen knew this _oh so well_.

 

The Machine’s Analog Interface wasn’t the submissive type by nature. Her usual response to people trying to control or dominate her in any way was irreverence – even if it was a pleasant experience. With Shaw it was different though. The petite Persian asset was the first person Root fully respected and trusted with every inch of her body, the first person the hacker had ever allowed herself to fully submit to willingly. Through the fog of pleasure threatening to overwhelm her at the feel of Shaw’s teeth tugging at her earlobe, Root thought, that her girlfriend being in control was quite nice right now.

 

“Sweetie,” the hacker uttered, her voice slightly husky with arousal, “if you’re doing this…” She whimpered as the other woman nibbled on her pulse point again. _Yes,_ this _! Exactly!_ “Fuck, yes… _this_ … for a few seconds more…” Another moan. “I think… I’ll come right here,” Root uttered, feeling the growing wetness between her legs.

 

Shaw’s lips on the hacker’s neck curled up into a smirk. She was about to ask what would be so wrong about it as she remembered Bear lying on his dog bed, possibly watching the interaction between them with interest. Root had made fun of Shaw at first for not wanting to have sex in front of the dog. _‘He’s not a kid, sweetie’_ , the hacker had said with an amused smirk on her lips. However, Root had realized pretty fast that Sameen had been dead serious about her fear of traumatizing the _‘poor boy’_. She still found the thought of Shaw treating Bear like a child in this matter kinda funny, but, _hey_ , she could live with getting in on _without_ the dog’s prying eyes on her, too.

 

“ _Mh_ , I think I’ve seen a nice couch in the other room,” the Persian whispered in Root’s good ear. “Wanna move this party there?”

 

The hacker’s voice was almost a growl. “Absolutely.”

 

Tough numbers and potentially dangerous MMA fights were forgotten for a while as they christened the dark blue couch in the Library that night.

 

\----------

 

The following day went by relatively eventless, and soon it was Friday night. Root and Shaw arrived at the venue, where the underground fights would go down, a few minutes before 9 o’clock.

 

“Here we are,” Sameen said as she parked the rental car in front of an old vacant warehouse. The place was located within an industrial area near the Manhattan Bridge, secluded enough not to draw much attention. Nevertheless, it was apparently well known to the Marines, models and hipsters who came to enjoy the illegal fights.

 

Shaw gazed through the car’s front window. The spectators seemed to come in waves, two or three people at once, disappearing into the warehouse quickly after being briefly checked by some sort of doormen. Smuggling their weapons in would be a difficult, but not impossible task.

 

The Persian glanced at Root on the passenger seat. The hacker hadn’t talked much the whole day. She was silent now too, looking out of the window, her brows furrowed slightly. Shaw could feel the worry radiating off her. It wasn’t a typical mood for the hacker, although Sameen _had_ seen her like this before.

 

“Hey, Eeyore,” she said, trying to get Root’s attention. “What’s wrong?”

 

The hacker just shrugged and continued to stare at the warehouse, seemingly in thought. Shaw reached over and tapped her girlfriend’s bicep lightly. At least, that did the trick, causing Root to turn her head and look at the Persian quizzically.

 

“You know you’re freaking me out when you’re going all Snake Eyes?” Shaw asked.

 

Root answered with furrowing her eyebrows questioningly.

 

Sameen frowned slightly. _The nerd doesn’t know who Snake Eyes is? Huh…_ “G.I. Joe? The mute Ninja?”

 

The hacker just looked at her, clearly having no clue what her girlfriend was talking about.

 

Shaw huffed. “Nevermind,” she muttered and shook her head. _I really have to introduce her to the world of G.I. Joe some time_ , she thought, then said, “Just… normally _you_ do most of the talking. And it’s kinda freaky when suddenly I’m the one who’s using way more words than you do.” She sighed. “So, just spit it out. What’s wrong, Root?”

 

The taller woman on the passenger seat just shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing in particular. I… just have a bad feeling about this.” They’d taken much bigger risks in the past and the hacker couldn’t really say why she was feeling so uneasy now. There was just this… strange feeling in her gut. And not one of the good kind. Maybe she wasn’t really back in the game yet?

 

“Root,” Sameen replied quietly, “we’ve talked about this.” A short pause. “I’ll be careful, alright?” _We’ll be careful._

 

For a second, Shaw was reminded of the day her cover had been blown by Samaritan and she had acted quite nonchalantly about it. Root had uttered her worry in such a way that had left no doubt that she deeply cared about Sameen, and the Persian asset thought that it had been one of those moments when she’d truly realized the deep feelings the hacker had for her.

 

Nevertheless, she never would have told Root that she’d be careful – for _her_ sake, not just for her own or the mission’s – at that point. Reassuring the other woman now that she’d be cautious – well, as cautious as possible at least – just because Root was worried, was a big thing for Shaw. It was evidence of how far they’d come in their relationship.

 

The hacker looked at the former ISA agent, the worry in her soft brown eyes clearly visible. “I just…” She trailed off, sighing. “Yeah, alright,” she agreed finally, knowing fully well that it would be pointless for them to cop out now. They needed to wrap up this number case. _As soon as possible._ And tonight was the perfect opportunity to maybe get some answers to their questions. Nevertheless, the bad feeling in her gut remained.

 

“What does Robot Overlord say about this?” Shaw asked eventually.

 

Root just shrugged again, for once not bothering to point out to Sameen that the Machine wasn’t a robot. (Although she knew by now that Shaw used this nickname for the AI just to get a reaction out of the hacker.) “Not much,” she replied. “She has no eyes around here. Won’t be much of a help this time.”

 

The Persian hummed in reply and nodded slightly. They sat in silence for a few moments, until Shaw got a glimpse of Diaz outside the warehouse. He stood by the entrance at the front of the building, clearly waiting for them to arrive.

 

“There’s our number”, Shaw said and Root gave a low grunt, her jealous-girlfriend-face clearly visible for a few seconds when she spotted Diaz, too.

 

Sameen rolled her eyes. _You’d think she’d be over this._ With a shake of her head, she reached over, grabbed Root by the collar of her coat and roughly pulled the hacker towards her.

 

Root gave a small startled yelp and whipped her head around, her eyes widening in surprise and in realization that Shaw must’ve seen her almost hostile reaction. For a moment, she was reminded of that one morning such a long time ago, after she’d moved an unconscious Shaw from her apartment to the car she’d stolen. The Persian hadn’t reacted too delighted to being tased, drugged and zip tied to the steering wheel by Root, but the hacker remembered that she’d definitely been turned on when Shaw had grabbed her and had hold a knife against her throat in the car. _Good old times…_

 

Right now, there wasn’t a knife involved. _Too bad…_ Root swallowed nevertheless, when she suddenly found herself face to face with an apparently unamused Persian asset, their noses almost touching. _Uh, well…_

 

The hacker’s gaze went to the Persian’s lips for a second, then she looked up, her brown eyes meeting Sameen’s darker ones. They were glaring at her in slight annoyance. _Uh oh…_ In an effort to limit the damage, Root gave Shaw a flirtatious smile. “Wanna make out before the big fight, darlin’?” she drawled in her best Texan accent.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes again and Root wondered for a moment if one could roll their eyes too often so that they would get stuck or something like that. _That would be strange. And definitely not healthy…_

 

“You behave?” The Persian’s tense question brought the hacker back to reality. Apparently, Sameen was quite unfazed by Root’s attempted deflection. Shaw couldn’t deny that jealous Root was kinda hot, but they couldn’t risk to draw unwanted attention just because the hacker decided to have another jealous fit. With all the violent consequences that would bring along.

 

Root’s lips curled into her trademark smirk. “You know how much I like being a _bad girl_ ,” she replied, her voice dripping of innuendo, and Shaw’s eyes seemed to be engaged in a permanent eye roll this night. “But I’ll play nice,” Root assured her girlfriend. “Promise.” She held up the three middle fingers of her right hand in a salute. “Girl Scout’s honor.”

 

“You never were a Girl Scout,” Shaw deadpanned.

 

Root’s smirk widened just a bit. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sweetie. I was a Girl Scout’s leader once. I even had a badge.”

 

The former ISA operative frowned for a second. She shook her head slightly then, trying to shove the image of Root in a Girl Scout uniform to the back of her mind for now. (Although she definitely would come back to this topic later.) “Just… No green eyed monster tonight, clear?” She gave the hacker a stern look and added, “Or I’ll have to repeat that lesson from three nights ago.”

 

Root swallowed, but her eyes glinted mischievously nevertheless, the smirk still not fading from her face. “Well, I remember some really nice things from that night also,” she drawled.

 

Shaw huffed and shook her head, her voice sounding slightly annoyed when she spoke. “Root-”

 

“I know,” the hacker cut her off, more serious now. She knew that her girlfriend’s patience was reaching its limits and that it was time to lose the flirty attitude. “I’ll be on my best behavior with Cain,” she assured, sounding sincere for once. “Just for you,” she added with a wink.

 

Shaw had to suppress a smirk. _Somebody’s to tell her that she really can’t wink._ She nodded shortly then. “Alright.” She stared into the hacker’s soft brown eyes for a moment, then, giving into a spontaneous impulse, leaned forwards a little bit more and pressed a sweet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips. When she drew back, Root had that dopey smile on her face, which Shaw secretly adored. With an emphasis on _secretly_.

 

“For good luck,” Sameen muttered, letting go of her girlfriend’s coat collar and already grabbing her gym bag from the back seat. Pleased that Root apparently wasn’t in Eeyore mood anymore, the former ISA operative opened the door on the driver’s side. “Come on, Doe Eyes. Let’s join the Fight Club.”

 

\-----

 

Cain Diaz smiled lightly as he spotted Sameen coming his way, a sports bag over one shoulder. The look on his face turned into a wary one though when his gaze fell on her attractive, but obviously batshit crazy girlfriend at her side. The one, who’d promised to kill him if he’d dare to make a move on his new sparring partner. _Oh boy…_

 

“Hey, Sameen,” Diaz greeted.

 

The petite Persian nodded in acknowledgement. “Cain.”

 

“Hello, Cain.” The taller woman’s voice was syrupy, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

 

“Hey,” the MMA instructor replied politely. _What’s her name again? Something like a… vegetable? No… Ah, got it!_ “Root, wasn’t it?” Diaz asked.

 

“Yes,” the tall woman in the black coat replied, staring at Diaz rather coldly.

 

 _Okay, time to clear some things up…_ “Look,” the number started, “I don’t want us to have a problem, alright?”

 

Root just tilted her head slightly and raised her brows. The MMA instructor thought that her intense stare was kinda freaky.

 

“I just wanted to say,” Diaz went on, “that I respect it when a lady is taken. So, the two of us really don’t have a problem, alright?”

 

Sameen cringed inwardly at being called a ‘lady’ and being ‘taken’ – like some sort of trophy. Maybe she should just shoot them both.

 

The hacker shrugged her shoulders, fully ignoring the sour look Shaw gave her. “If you say so,” she replied non-committedly, not quite ready to agree on a peace offering so easily.

 

“Great,” Sameen suddenly growled sardonically at her side. She wasn’t really sure, if she’d call the way Root was acting her ‘best behavior’. However, the former killer for hire hadn’t threatened the number to kill him in a slow and painful way again. That was more than anyone could’ve asked for. _Right?_ “If you two are through with staking out your territories and talking about me as if I’m not present, can we go in now? It’s goddam _freezing_ out here.”

 

Diaz at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Uhm, well. Sorry. Yes,” he said, turning towards the entrance of the warehouse. “Follow me in. They’re maintaining a carefully managed invitation list, but I’ll get you through the door and introduce you to the promoters.”

 

Root just had a smug look on her face as she followed the number with Shaw at her side, and the Persian asset shook her head slightly. Sometimes she just wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off the hacker’s face. Whether with a smack or with a kiss – she wasn’t really sure right now. _Maybe both?_

 

As if she’d read her thought, Root turned her head and gave Shaw a wink.

 

The former ISA operative couldn’t help but smirk when her girlfriend’s attempt to wink properly failed once again. _Can shoot a .338 from a moving vehicle, but can’t wink. World’s full of weird things..._

 

\-----

 

They went into the warehouse without problems. They’d been patted down on their way in by two brawny men, who apparently acted as security, but neither did they find Shaw’s Smith & Wesson Bodyguard 380 nor Root’s taser as well as the Nano Sameen had given her earlier this evening. The search hadn’t been very thoroughly – even though they’d looked into Shaw’s gym bag briefly – and the former ISA operative had hidden her backup piece in a concealed boot holster. She wondered for a moment, if she really wanted to know where Root had hidden her taser and the Nano. _Maybe not…_

 

Diaz led them through a hall, where the spectators were already crowded around a boxing ring in the center. There were quite a lot of people and it was really loud because everyone was talking all at once and hip-hop music was blaring. Nevertheless, the moderator’s voice was booming above them all over the mic, welcoming them and promising a night full of thrilling fights.

 

Leaving the crowd behind, Root and Shaw followed their number to the back of the warehouse, down a hallway, then upstairs to some storerooms. Diaz stopped in front of one of these rooms and knocked three times on a metal door. Dark blue paint was already peeling off and there were some rusty spots at its edges.

 

After a few seconds, a deep voice called for them to come in and the two women followed Diaz into the room.

 

“ _Hola_ , Cain,” a man with the size and physique of an NFL linebacker in a black hoodie said in acknowledgment. He was casually leaning against the wall, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. He looked about 6’7’’ and even Diaz appeared tiny beside him. Two other men sat on chairs at a table. They were almost as equally tall as Linebacker Guy and their buff bodies were quite impressive.

 

“Hi, Devon,” replied Diaz and gave the other two men in the room a short nod.

 

“You have groupies now, Cain?” Devon asked with a smirk on his face and a tiny nod in Root and Shaw’s direction.

 

The Persian’s eyes darkened at that, and Root showed her creepy smile that promised death and destruction. Devon’s smirk vanished in seconds and made room for a bewildered frown.

 

“No”, the number was quick to reply. “Definitely not.” He motioned at Shaw. “This is Sameen.” The former ISA operative simply nodded as a greeting. “She’s been my sparring partner for a few weeks,” Diaz went on. “She’s a former Marine and a God-given talent at MMA. Wants to fight tonight. So, I thought you’d maybe give her a chance?”

 

Devon gave Shaw a quick once-over. Apparently, he liked what he saw, because he finally nodded approvingly. “ _Bien._ We don’t have much women, who fight. So, that would be a nice change,” he said, then asked, “You’ve been fighting before?”

 

“Yes,” Sameen replied. “I’m no rookie,” she added with a hint of a smirk.

 

The brawny guy nodded, then looked over at Root thoughtfully. “You wanna fight too, _chica_?”

 

The hacker chuckled quietly, shaking her head. “No. Fist fights aren’t really my style,” she replied. She could hold her own in a fight, if she absolutely had to, no question. However, Root knew that she lacked the years of training, strength and speed people like Shaw – or even this Cain guy – had. She had no illusion about how long she’d last in a real MMA fight, where there was no Machine that could help her, and no taser that she could use.

 

If she wouldn’t be able to catch her opponent off-guard, making use of the moment of surprise, the hacker would have gotten her teeth knocked in pretty fast. _What an unpleasant thought._ “I just like to watch,” Root said, her smile showing a bit of teeth.

 

Sameen was rolling her eyes. Again.

 

Devon nodded. “Alright then. Let’s see what Pai Gow says.”

 

Shaw frowned and looked at Diaz, then back at Devon, slightly puzzled. Beside her, Root tilted her head in question. “Pai Gow?” she asked. “Like the gambling game?”

 

“No. Like _me_ ,” a female voice suddenly said from the other end of the room.

 

All heads turned into the direction of the voice as an Asian looking woman in her mid-thirties emerged from a curtain that obviously separated the room from another back room. She had quite a beautiful face, her black silky hair pinned-up, and a red dress with a black dragon motive hugged her lean body nicely, schowing quite an amount of skin. Furthermore, there was an unmistakable air of authority about her.

 

Root couldn’t help but notice that the woman named Pai Gow looked absolutely stunning. Although the hacker’s only true interest had been on one specific compact Persian asset for quite some time now, she sometimes couldn’t prevent her body from reacting at the sight of quite sexy female curves. Hoping that Shaw wouldn’t notice her gaze wandering for a second, Root swallowed discreetly.

 

“You’re the one who orchestrates the fights?” Sameen sounded a bit impressed.

 

Pai Gow cocked one brow, a slightly arrogant smirk on her lips. “Surprised?”

 

The former ISA agent shrugged. “A bit,” she admitted.

 

The Asian woman answered with a shrug of her own, then looked at Shaw scrutinizingly. “So, I’ve heard you’re a former Marine.”

 

Sameen nodded. “Yes.”

 

Pai Gow smirked lightly. “Like Cain here. Interesting.” She looked at Diaz shortly, then back at Shaw. “You Marines have quite excellent combat skills, as I’ve seen before. I’m glad you want to delight us with your fight techniques tonight, Sameen.” A beat. “You’re lucky because I’ve got the perfect opponent for you. She’s about your height and build. Calls herself Black Mamba.”

 

Root gave a quiet snort at that and the Asian woman raised her brows at her.

 

“It’s common for the fighters to have a nickname. Some of them were named by the audience, some of them named themselves to express certain characteristics,” she explained.

 

The hacker gave a little smirk. “Oh, believe me, I’m _quite_ familiar with that,” she replied mysteriously.

 

Pai Gow looked at her questioningly, but before she could ask anything, Shaw cut in again. “This Mamba girl, is she good?”

 

“Yeah, she is,” Diaz piped up suddenly. “Girl’s fought eleven fights in the past few months and has won _all_ of them.” He sounded quite impressed.

 

Shaw just looked at him deadpan. “Well, I think tonight her lucky streak’s about to end.”

 

“That’s the spirit!” Pai Gow seemed quite delighted. “Well, I have to go now and greet the audience.” She gestured at Linebacker Guy, who obviously was her right-hand man. “Devon here will talk about the rules and the payment with you, and show you, where you can change clothes. We’ll squeeze your fight in later this evening.”

 

Shaw nodded. _That was easy._ _Huh…_ _Maybe too easy?_ She looked over at Root, who had a genuine friendly smile on her lips. Well, at least it looked genuine to any other person. However, Shaw had known the hacker long enough now to recognize the fake look on her face.

 

For a moment, Sameen wondered if the worry Root had expressed earlier might be justified. The former ISA agent couldn’t help but notice the tiny voice in her head telling her that trouble was ahead of them. _Well, just another typical night for Team Machine._

 

\-----

 

A few minutes later, Shaw was changing into a black tank top and shorts of the same color in one of the storage rooms. Root had shed her coat and was casually leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, openly leering at the Persian’s well-toned body.

 

“The way you’re perving on me, one could think I didn’t fuck you into oblivion last night,” Sameen muttered while she pulled down her top over a sports bra, the tiniest of a smile playing around her lips.

 

“Well, that was _last_ night, sweetie,” the hacker replied with a shrug of her shoulders. She could see the muscles ripple along Shaw’s arm when she straightened her top. So smooth yet sharp, too. _Damn, I’m a lucky girl._

 

The former ISA operative gave a low chuckle. “You know, you’re like a sexual energizer bunny – you just keep going and going,” she said with a grin.

 

Root tilted her head slightly and smirked at her girlfriend. “And you love it,” she replied cheerfully, mirth dancing in her eyes.

 

Shaw just shook her head, chuckling lowly again. _Fuck yes, I love it._ Over the years, the former ISA operative had had sex with quite a number of people. Have a good night, three at most, and then move on. That had been her rule for a long time. Root was the first person she’d broken this rule for. And not just because the sex was great. No. Shaw had realized that the hacker made her feel complete in so many different ways.

 

She didn’t know if she’d call it love, didn’t know if she was capable to feel this way even. However, the Persian asset knew one thing for sure – it was good the way it was. Their four alarm fire was burning brightly, and Shaw had to admit that Root had been right all this time ago – it actually felt quite cozy to her.

 

Shoving these thoughts to the back of her mind for now, Sameen got serious again. “There are three other fights tonight before it’s my turn. Enough time for us to go slumming and put out our feelers.”

 

The hacker nodded. “I think it’s best if you try to stay with our number for now,” she stated. “I’ll have my eye on this woman calling herself Pai Gow.”

 

Sameen gave a small huff. “I bet you will,” she mumbled, not quite looking at Root.

 

Root creased her brows. “What do you mean?”

 

Shaw raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend. “You really have to ask?” When Root just continued to look at her with a big question mark on her face, the Persian asset shook her head lightly. “Don’t think I didn’t see how you stared at this woman earlier.”

 

The hacker could feel her cheeks grow hot. _Busted._ Nevertheless, she tried to deflect her girlfriend’s implied accusation, looking at her half-jokingly, half-serious. “Sameen,” she said, drawing out her girlfriend’s name, “are you _jealous_?”

 

The Machine’s primary asset just glared at her deadpan. “You wish.” She shrugged. “Unlike you, I don’t do jealous. You should know that by now.” _Nope. No jealousy here._

 

Root just hummed non-commitedly, not quite convinced. “If you say so, Sameen,” she drawled, a smirk playing around her lips and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

 

Shaw narrowed her eyes in mild annoyance at her girlfriend’s reaction. She glared at Root for a few seconds, the hacker holding her gaze, smirking playfully at her. Eventually Sameen huffed. “Maybe I just don’t like it if you look at other people with this one special look of yours,” she admitted.

 

The hacker got serious again immediately. “What look?”

 

Sameen shrugged lightly and stepped closer towards Root while she replied blatantly, “The one where you look like you just want to rip all my clothes off and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.” The _‘Like I’m the only person in the world that matters for you’_ went left unsaid _._ Well, Sameen thought that the odds for this statement to be actually true were pretty high.

 

The hacker swallowed hard as Shaw came to a stop right in front of her and the petite primary asset smirked at her girlfriend’s expression.

 

“Yep. _That’s_ the look, exactly,” Shaw said with a grin. With a tug on Root’s collar, she pulled the hacker’s head downwards, so that she could whisper into her left ear. “You know what I’m gonna do to you as soon as we’re finished here?”

 

“Tell me,” the Machine’s Analog Interface breathed, her eyes slightly hooded.

 

Sameen chuckled lowly, then whispered something into Root’s ear that made the hacker’s eyes grow wide in delighted excitement and left her speechless for a change. The Persian woman drew back a moment later and looked at her girlfriend with a grin.

 

When Root just continued to stare at her wordlessly, Shaw tilted her head and furrowed her brows. _Looks like I’ve fried her circuits._ _Damn. Didn’t know that this could happen._ “You okay there?”

 

The hacker nodded slowly, still looking quite flustered. “Yeah. I just… pictured us trying this-“

 

Shaw cut her off with a laugh. _Typically Root._ “Come on, nerd,” she said, shaking her head. “Put your processor back into motion. We’ve got work to do first.” She turned around then, leaving the storage room.

 

Root stared after Shaw for a moment. Well, at her perfectly shaped ass in those nice black shorts, to be exactly. With a sigh and a light smile on her face, the hacker followed her girlfriend into the hall.

 

\-----

 

“I think I’ve spotted your opponent for tonight,” Root said to Sameen half an hour later, as they were watching two fighters beating the living shit out of each other in the ring. However, the guy nicknamed Stinger clearly couldn’t hold a candle to the ‘Flying Crocodile’.

 

 _What a silly nickname_ , the hacker thought for a moment. _And then people are acting as if ‘Root’ is so strange…_

 

Shaw followed the tall hacker’s gaze and spotted a dark-skinned woman in the gathered crowd. The girl was about the Persian’s height, already in deep red shorts and gear. _Black Mamba._ She looked thoroughly fit and held herself with the confidence of someone, who’d won enough fights. Shaw knew just from the looks that Black Mamba wouldn’t be an easy opponent – even for a trained former ISA operative like her.

 

The crowd was suddenly in an uproar as Flying Crocodile brought Stinger to fall with an impressive combo of punches and kicks.

 

“It’s definitely not Stinger’s night,” Diaz said as he joined Root and Shaw, positioning himself in a way that the Persian was between him and the other woman. The tall and pretty brunette hadn’t threatened him again, but Diaz had to admit that the way the woman stared at him from time to time gave him the creeps. So, he kept his distance. _Better safe than sorry._

 

Root and Shaw had lost sight of their number earlier when the former ISA operative had been changing into her gym clothes and warming up a little bit, but the Machine had told them that Diaz’ phone had been in the warehouse’s hall all the time. Nothing unusual or suspicious had happened so far.

 

“Yep. Definitely doesn’t look like it,” the Persian asset replied to Diaz’ statement. From the corner of her eye, she saw how Root was scrunching up her face as the fighter in the yellow shorts was punched in the face and torso repeatedly, not able to properly defend himself anymore.

 

Shaw knew that the hacker actually couldn’t care less about the fighter named Stinger and the fact that Flying Crocodile was absolutely wiping the floor with him right now. She was pretty sure that Root was solely worried about Sameen’s physical well-being.

 

“Relax,” the Machine’s Primary Asset muttered, just loud enough for Root to hear her. “I’m not planning on getting my ass kicked,” she assured.

 

The hacker gave the shorter woman a side-glance. “I don’t think that Yellow Shorts Guy came here tonight with the wish for a broken jaw either.”

 

 _True._ Shaw shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I’m way better than this loser.”

 

“Yeah, you are,” Root agreed, showing a little smile.

 

Sameen then focused her attention back on Diaz. “You don’t fight tonight?” she asked, taking in his casual outfit consisting of dark blue jeans, white sneakers and a simple black muscle shirt.

 

Their number shook his head. ”No. My part was to introduce you. Now I’m just watching the fights like everybody else.”

 

Sameen nodded, though she had the feeling that there was more to Diaz’ presence tonight than he let on. “Any tips?” she asked a moment later, with a nod in Black Mamba’s direction.

 

“Don’t let yourself get pinned down. Mamba’s a ju-jitsu fighter and she damn well knows what she’s doing. The girl’s like an anaconda once she has you in a hold,” Diaz replied.

 

Shaw nodded. _Good to know._ “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

A few moments later, Flying Crocodile was declared winner while his opponent was carried out of the ring, only half-conscious and profusely bleeding from a head wound. The cheering of the crowd mixed with the booing from the not so lucky bettors, who’d set their hopes on the fighter named Stinger.

 

“There’s an illegal betting system going on here,” Root stated, glancing at the exchange of dollar bills around her. “Clever idea.”

 

Shaw just raised her eyebrows at Root’s obvious delight and the hacker shrugged her shoulders. “What? It _is_ ,” she said pointedly.

 

The former Marine couldn’t really argue with that and just looked straight forward again. This mysterious woman calling herself Pai Gow wasn’t wasting any time. Just moments after Flying Crocodile had hammered his opponent into the ground, she went into the ring and grabbed the mic from one of her employees to announce the next fight.

 

Root used the moment to snap a picture of the woman with her phone unobstrusively. “What can you tell me about her?” she asked the Machine in her ear whisperingly.

 

 _“Her real name is Yingtao Young. Mother’s Chinese, father’s an US citizen,”_ the ASI answered after a few seconds. _“She’s been running a gambling establishment in Los Angeles a few years ago. She’s been suspected to be involved in drug dealing and has been arrested once. However, they couldn’t prove anything, so authorities had to let her go. She’s running this underground fight club here in New York ever since.”_

 

“Woman definitely knows how to run her business,” the hacker muttered. “Anything more?”

 

 _“No. She’s well known in the scene, but keeps a low profile otherwise.”_ After a small pause, the Machine went on, _“Her employees, on the other hand, have quite the police records. Devon Sanchez, her right-hand man, has served four and a half years for homicide on Rikers Island. The rest of the staff has clay feet too. Drug smuggling, procurement, illegal possession of firearms…”_

 

“Quite a busy pack,” Root murmured, wondering for a moment how a guy like Diaz could’ve gotten involved with these people. Her own streaks of jealousy aside, the hacker had gotten the impression that their number was a reputable man. _Well, looks can deceive. Maybe he’s the perp nevertheless._ Root was concentrating her attention on Pai Gow then again, because the woman was announcing the next fight. Black Mamba against Lil’ Firecracker.

 

Shaw’s eyes seemed to bulge when she heard the quite familiar nickname over the mic. _Oh, fucking no. She didn’t…_ The Persian asset whipped her head around to glare at Root. The way the taller woman grinned at her, told her that the silly name had been quite indeed the hacker’s idea. _I’m so gonna kick her ass for that later…_

 

Root responded to Sameen’s annoyed glare with a simple shrug of her shoulders and a smirk on her face. “Sounds catchy, doesn’t it?”

 

“You’ll pay for this,” Shaw hissed, however without real menace behind her words, and the hacker’s grin just went bigger.

 

“Looking forward to it, Sweetie,” she drawled. “Now go and have fun.”

 

The former ISA operative shook her head lightly as a small grin spread across her face. _Oh, I definitely will._ She looked over at Diaz for a second, who gave her the thumbs up and mouthed _‘Good luck’_. She was sure that Root would keep an eye on him with the Machine’s help while she’d be busy with knocking Mamba Girl on her ass.

 

After one final short nod in Root’s direction, Shaw walked to the ring, head held high, and her whole demeanor radiating confidence. She went onto the apron and climbed through the ropes with ease.

 

Finally, standing in the ring, Sameen silently eyed her opponent, doing a few pre-match stretches meanwhile. The girl named Black Mamba met her gaze, looking at the former ISA operative aggressively, while she warmed herself up with a few jumps on the spot.

 

Shaw checked the tapes and the grappling gloves on her hands one last time, while Pai Gow praised Black Mamba’s fighting skills. The crowd cheered and applauded, and Sameen’s opponent threw both fists into the air, obviously quite sure of victory. Shaw admired her optimism. _Won’t help her much though…_

 

Shaw didn’t receive quite as much as cheering and applauding as her opponent when Pai Gow announced her again, but the Persian asset couldn’t have been more indifferent about it. After all, she wasn’t here to be the crowd’s darling, but hopefully to solve this number case. Or at least, put some more light on it. _Yep, that would be great._

 

A few moments later, Pai Gow left the ring and one of her employees climbed over the ropes, positioning himself between Shaw and her opponent. His job was to act as some kind of referee, although he hadn’t intervened much so far. Sameen knew that these non-sanctioned fights tended to be brutal and bloody, the only real rule being not to kill your opponent. If possible. _Therefore, fun._

 

The next second, the amateur referee opened the first round with a simple _‘Fight!’_ and stepped back quickly to leave room for the two women.

 

Shaw had wanted to start things slow, but the Mamba Girl got right to the nitty-gritty with a few aggressive punches in the Persian’s direction.

 

 _Okay, if you wanna play like this_ , Sameen thought and dealed out some hammering blows in response. Her opponent blocked the hits with her forearms, then started a counter-attack, throwing kicks and punches at Shaw expertly.

 

The former ISA operative ducked and blocked all of the blows, but already noticed that this female MMA-fighter in fact was a seriously skilled opponent. She started a new attack, punching and kicking her way through Black Mamba’s defense, gaining the upper hand for a moment.

 

However, it wasn’t enough to really faze the other woman. She stopped Shaw’s assault with a forearm shiver to the side of the head followed in combination with a mighty left hook that caught the Machine’s Primary Asset at the jaw.

 

Sameen staggered backwards and caught sight of her opponent trying for another punch. She barely avoided it as she ducked underneath and turned Black Mamba’s face around with a hard back elbow shot that sent her into the nearest corner.

 

The crowd around Root cheered as Sameen sent her opponent flying and the hacker felt proud for a moment at seeing Sameen having the upper hand. Nevertheless, as much as she loved to see her girl in action, Root hoped that this fight would be over soon. With her compact Persian girlfriend as winner of course.

 

Shaw was skilled in hand-to-hand combat, having been trained by the Marines and then the ISA. However, her opponent seemed to be an expert in fighting, too, landing more hits on Sameen’s body than Root would’ve liked. It had been the truth when she’d told her girlfriend a long time ago that she couldn’t bear it if anyone hurt her little firecracker. _Well, besides me, obviously._

 

Shaw landed several punches right on Black Mamba’s chest, but she still advanced. _Damn, girl’s a really tough fighter_ , Sameen thought approvingly as she was shoved vehemtly into the corner. Then, a punch landed right in her stomach before she could’ve gotten her defense up again. _Ouch._ It was followed by an elbow right to the jaw and Shaw could feel her lower lip bursting under the force of the hit. _Fuck._

 

Sameen tasted blood on her tongue, but just smiled dangerously at her opponent. “Oh, now you’re really gonna get it,” she growled, feeling the adrenaline rush through her body.

 

“Bring it on, _Fireworks_ ,” the other woman scoffed, showing an equally dangerous smirk. Shaw growled lowly and attacked again.

 

They exchanged quite a number of punches and kicks for a few moments, neither of them gaining the upper hand, until Shaw executed a roundhouse kick, her right foot meeting her opponent’s stomach forcefully. The attack drove the wind right out of the black skinned woman as she staggered backwards.

 

Sameen used this moment to hammer her left hook into the other woman’s face. Now, normally the victim of such a move would most definitely go down. However, Black Mamba just wobbled a little bit. _Damn, girl has guts_ , Shaw had to admit, mentally. A second later, she found herself crashing down to the center of the ring after her legs had been kicked out from under her. _What the fuck?!_

 

 _No!_ Root’s eyes widened in surprise when she saw her girlfriend go down. This didn’t happen very often and it was definitely a sign that this woman named Black Mamba was an excellent fighter. The hacker really wished that she could just go up there and taser this girl.

 

She sighed in relief when Shaw got up again just a second later, not giving the other woman the chance to get her into a hold. Sameen’s flowing movements reminded Root of a cat. _Well, more of a black panther. Dark, strong and dangerous._

 

Black Mamba strode forward and tried to grab Shaw again, but failed. Instead, the Machine’s Primary Asset smashed her in the temple with her right gloved fist. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to bring her opponent down, because after a second of staggering she rushed forward again und slammed a kick into Shaw’s side, which elicited an audible “crunch”.

 

Root winced at the sight of Sameen doubling over slightly, her face contorted in pain for a second before she schooled her facial features again, not letting on how much the hit had hurt. Recovering fast, she swung around then, wrapped her legs around the other woman’s waist and her arms around her throat and pulled her to the ground, choking her.

 

Root couldn’t help but notice that Shaw choking someone was extremely hot, although she preferred it when her _own_ throat was the one the Persian’s hands were around. Under different circumstances of course.

 

Diaz seemed to enjoy the show, too, given the somehow mesmerized look on his face. Root gave a low growl in the back of her throat. Maybe she’d have to choke someone too tonight. But not in the fun way.

 

Meanwhile, Black Mamba had squirmed free of Shaw’s chokehold. As soon as she was back on her feet, the dark skinned fighter nailed a kick right to the Persian’s left leg, which brought her down to one knee. Avoiding a heavy shot to her head, Sameen gritted her teeth and fought through the pain while she got up again. _Goddammit! This woman’s fast…_ For a second, Shaw thought that coming here as an unremarkable spectator might have been less painful. _Well_ , it had been her _own_ idea after all to participate as a fighter. _No one to blame but me…_

 

Shaw was really pissed off now, throwing a combo of punches, trying to get in a nice swing to her opponent’s face. Eventually, she found an opening and two forceful blows found their mark. The Persian asset felt a smirk pulling around her lips when she heard the sickening crunch of the other woman’s nose breaking.

 

Boos and cheers erupted from the crowd when Black Mamba backed off for a moment, wiping away the blood pouring from her nose with the back of her hand. She fixated Shaw with a deadly look in her eyes, and the former ISA operative just answered with a sneer.  

 

“Whoa,” Diaz muttered, then gave Root a side-glance. “Hope I’m allowed to say that, but your girlfriend definitely has fire,” he stated, admiration in his voice.

 

The hacker gave a half smirk at Diaz’ use of the term ‘girlfriend’. Although Root definitely hadn’t a problem with the word, Shaw’s usual reaction to the hacker calling her that was to roll her eyes and scrunch up her face.

 

“You have no idea,” Root replied with a sweet smile, pondering for a moment how mad Sameen would be if she tased their number for fangirling too much.

 

Black Mamba hadn’t really recovered yet when Shaw attacked again. The fight already went on for too long in her opinion and the Persian asset was determined to put an end to this show. Therefore, she let her opponent have it hard with another blow to the head followed by several feet to the chest.

 

Sameen’s elbow hit the other woman’s head and some of the gathered people cringed at the impact as Black Mamba’s face smashed right off the ex-ISA agent’s knee. The show of strength garnered some big cheers from the rest of the crowd.

 

Root merely raised an eyebrow, already knowing what Shaw was capable of. A sudden little tune in her left ear brought her attention back to the Machine.

 

 _“Diaz just got a message from Devon to meet him in one of the storage rooms upstairs,”_ the ASI informed Her Analog Interface over the comm.

 

Root glanced over at Diaz, who was a few feet away and looking at his smartphone. _Interesting. Maybe tonight there’ll be actually more action than the one in the ring._ The hacker looked up at Shaw. Her girlfriend was busy slamming a knee into her opponent’s gut at the moment. From the looks of it, Sameen was about to win this fight in no time. _That’s my girl._

 

Nevertheless, their number was leaving the hall right now. Having promised to keep an eye on Diaz, Root couldn’t wait for the fight to end, but had to follow the MMA trainer immediately. “Tell her where I went as soon as she has her phone or earpiece,” the hacker muttered as she went after the number as low-key as possible.

 

 _“Will do,”_ the Machine promised.

 

In the meantime, Shaw drove her gloved fists into her opponent’s face, sensing that Black Mamba was at the end of her rope. _Good._ Another punch to the face.

 

The crowd roared.

 

A kick in the gut.

 

People gasped.

 

Another well-aimed hit to the temple – and Black Mamba was splayed out unconscious on her back in the middle of the ring. The crowd roared and cheered as the referee jumped between Shaw and her defenseless opponent to hinder the Persian from attacking further.

 

 _As if I’d kick someone who’s already down, idiot_ , Shaw thought for a moment. Then she remembered where she was. Apparently, it wasn’t unusual for some fighters to lay into their opponents – even if they were already defeated. _Assholes._

 

While Pai Gow came back into the ring to announce Shaw as winner, the Persian asset looked into the crowd, to the spot where Root and Diaz had been standing before.

 

They were gone.

 

_Damn._

\-----

 

“I wish you’d have eyes here,” Root whispered as she went down a dimly lit corridor, following Diaz’ way upstairs.

 

 _“Mee too,”_ the ASI’s deep timbre resounded in the hacker’s good ear.

 

In Root’s opinion, it had been a good choice to pick Scarlett Johansson’s voice as the Machine’s. _It’s kinda soothing._ Well, and it didn’t hurt at all that it was quite sexy on top of that.

 

The hacker came to a stop in front of a rusty door, when the ASI told her that she had located Diaz’ phone in the room behind it. Pressing herself against the wall, Root listened to the hushed voices coming from inside. The scraps of conversation that reached her good ear told the Machine’s Analog Interface that the men inside the room were speaking Spanish.

 

Having grown up in Texas, Root was fluent in this language. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hear much through the solid door. _God, what I’d give for some nice security cameras around here…_ “Can you forward this conversation from Diaz’ phone to my earpiece?” the hacker whisperingly asked the Machine. This way, she could at least hear what they were talking about.

 

The next second, Diaz’ voice rang through Root’s comm. _“… me estás sugiriendo?”_ _(What) are you talking about?_

 

 _“Eres igual que tu amigo, Perez,”_ another male voice answered. _You’re like your friend, Perez._

 

“Devon,” Root whispered, recognizing the voice as Pai Gow’s right-hand man switched to English.

 

_“He couldn’t have stayed out of other people’s business, too.”_

 

The hacker’s eyes widened a bit at hearing this statement. _Okay, things just went from boring to interesting-_

 

“ _Hey!_ What are you doing here?”

 

Root’s head whipped around when a young man, maybe in his early twenties, in a black sweat suit advanced her from the end of the corridor. _And more complicated…_

 

The hacker put on a sweet smile as she turned around, her fingertips secretly fumbling for the small taser hidden in the back of her waistband. “Oh, hey,” she said easily. “I’m sorry, I was searching for the restrooms.” An innocent smile went along with the lie.

 

The man came closer, eyeing the tall woman in front of him suspiciously. “There are no restrooms up here.”

 

Root gave a fake awkward chuckle. “Yes, I’ve noticed.” She looked at the young man innocently. “But now I’ve got a little problem.”

 

The man furrowed his brows questioningly, the distance between him and Root now just a few feet. “Yeah? What problem?”

 

As fast as lightning, the hacker drew her taser and rammed it in the side of his neck. The electric shock made the man drop like a stone.

 

“You,” Root answered the man’s question with a small smirk, looking down at his now unconscious form at her feet. However, there wasn’t enough time to be proud of herself, because the next second a shot rang out, coming from inside the room Diaz was in.

 

 _“I think our number’s been shot,”_ the Machine told Root, Her voice sounding strained.

 

_Fuck!_

 

There was no time to search for Shaw or make fancy rescue plans. Root had to act _now_ – and fast. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for their number. Even if she’d wanted to kill him herself before for fangirling too much over Sameen.

 

Swapping her taser for the Nano, she’d also hidden in the waistband of her jeans, Root exhaled once. “Going in there,” she told the Machine.

 

_“No. Don’t-“_

 

“Wish me luck.” With those words, the hacker slammed the door open and burst into the room. She knew very well that it was impulsive and dangerous to rush into the room like a gunslinger, not knowing how many men, most likely armed, awaited her. Without knowing where Sameen was and without the Machine’s help. _Well, the things you do to save annoying numbers…_

 

Her brain needed the split of a second to make sense of the scene in front of her. Their number lay on the floor, sprawled out, not moving and blood seeping out from a gunshot wound to the chest. _Dammit._ Devon still had his gun drawn out, looking at the intruder in surprise – as well as the three other men in the room. “What the-?”

 

Devon’s sentence was cut off when Root shot, aiming for the man’s chest. _Fuck the no-kill policy._ Pai Gow’s right-hand man went to the floor with a pained groan. Sadly, he wasn’t dead, instead he screamed at his men, “Get her!”

 

Root dove behind a steel file cabinet when the rest of the men drew their guns and opened the fire at her.

 

 _“What’s happening?”_ the Machine asked tensely in the hacker’s ear.

 

“Oh, just a little shootout,” Root replied with fake easiness. She then peered around the corner of the file cabinet, aiming at one of her assailants. He went down the next second, a bullet stuck in his head. “A little backup might be a good idea though,” she said as she went into cover again, bullets ricocheting from the steel.

 

 _“I can’t reach Asset Shaw right now, but I see what I can do,”_ the Machine replied. _“Hold on.”_

 

The Analog Interface gave a tense smirk. “Trying to do exactly that,” she muttered under her breath. For a moment, she wondered if the shootout could be heard in the hall downstairs and people were already leaving the place in panic. Probably not, she thought, remembering the blaring hip-hop music.

 

Peeking out from her cover, Root fired another two shots, but missed her targets. Cursing, she backed down again. It didn’t help her case that Devon had started to shoot at her, too. The gunshot wound in his chest apparently hadn’t caused too much damage. _Sadly._

 

It was three against one now. And there were only three rounds left in her Nano. _No god mode. No spare magazine. Just great._ Root wondered for a moment how mad Sameen would be if she got herself riddled with holes like a Swiss Cheese.

 

\-----

 

“ _Dammit_ , Root, where are you?” Shaw muttered under her breath as she limped towards the storeroom, where they’d left their stuff. She couldn’t have kept her earpiece or her phone with her during the fight. Without them, there was no way she could contact her girlfriend or the Machine.

 

Sameen’s fight against Black Mamba had been the last one for this evening and most of the spectators were already leaving the venue. However, this annoying hip-hop music was still blaring through the corridors. The Persian asset could’ve gladly done without it.

 

When she arrived at the storage room, Shaw took one last gulp from her drinking bottle before she tossed it to the side in annoyance at the situation. She’d gulped down at least one half a liter of water after the match against Black Mamba, having been quite dehydrated.

 

Pulling her gloves off and removing the tapes, Shaw looked around, hoping for the hacker to pop up from the shadows suddenly with this trademark smirk on her lips, like she sometimes did just to annoy the Persian. However, there was no sign of Root. Or their number. Shaw felt worry creeping up on her.

 

Reaching behind a steel closet in the corner of the storeroom, the Persian fetched a small bag, where she’d hidden her phone, earpiece and gun, out of sight and reach for possible thieves. _Or much too nosy people._ When she eventually pulled out her phone, Sameen’s bad feeling was confirmed. There was a message, apparently from the Machine, telling her, ‘ _Number possibly dead. Analog Interface needs help immediately. Storage room, second floor_.’

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” the former ISA operative cursed under her breath, stowing away her phone. However, before she could grab her earpiece and her Smith & Wesson Bodyguard, Pai Gow’s voice behind her stopped her in her movement.

 

“Stop! Don’t move, if you don’t want a bullet in the back of your head.” The Asian woman’s voice was quite saccharine.

 

 _Dammit._ Sameen eyed the butt of her .380 poking out from her open bag, pondering if she would be fast enough to reach for the gun and shoot everyone, who’s standing behind her – without getting shot herself.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Pai Gow said as if she could read the Persian’s mind. “Hands in the air,” she demanded. “Turn around. _Slowly_.”

 

Shaw cursed again, silently this time. She let the bag drop to the ground, then turned around cautiously, her hands raised up. Pai Gow and four of her henchmen were standing at the entrance of the storeroom, leveling their guns at Shaw. _Shit._ Sameen blamed this damn loud music in the backround for not hearing them approach.

 

“What do you want from me?” the Persian asset asked, trying to buy herself some time.

 

The Asian woman shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Just have a nice little chat with you, _Firecracker_.” She smiled at the Persian dangerously.

 

Shaw just met her gaze with a deadpan expression. “And you need guns for that?” There was no reaction, so she asked, “Wanna chat? About what?”

 

Pai Gow tilted her head slightly. “Well, for example, why you’ve been following Diaz around like a shadow,” she replied, holding up a photo of Sameen tailing their number. “One of my men saw you tailing him and snapped a nice picture.”

 

The Persian asset cursed herself for not having been more careful, not having been more aware of her surroundings. Had she really become this sloppy? She was a trained spy, _dammit_. Maybe she wasn’t on top of her game yet after the whole Samaritan thing…

 

“I was really curious about you,” Pai Gow continued, “but it was impossible to find out _anything_ about you.” She chuckled lowly and shook her head. “And then you just waltz into here. Irony of fate, huh?”

 

Shaw just stared at her, her face expressionless, but her mind racing. _Well_ , it _was_ kinda ironic. They’ve walked into this all on their own after all.

 

“Diaz said that you two are sparring partners,” the other woman went on. “Why tailing him then?”

 

”Why the interest in Diaz?” Sameen shot back.

 

Pai Gow cocked her head, raising her brows, a mixture of amusement and annoyance showing on her face. “I ask the questions here.” She nodded at Shaw’s bag with her chin. “Kick your bag over here. And your phone, too.”

 

The former ISA agent reluctantly did as requested and one of Pai Gow’s lackeys picked up the items, handing it over to the Asian woman. Fetching the .380 and the earpiece from the bag, the MMA promoter gave a small frown. “Are you some sort of private investigator?” A beat. “Private security?”

 

Sameen shrugged. “More like a concerned third party.”

 

Pai Gow’s frown deepened at that and Sameen just stared her down, racking her brain for a way to get herself out of this mess. Maybe it was too late for their number, but she had to get Root out of here under all circumstances. Shaw blinked a few times, feeling slightly nauseous suddenly. _Maybe some aftereffects from the fight?_ After all, she _did_ take some serious punches to the head. _Not good._

 

Sensing her uneasiness, Pai Gow gave a little smirk. “Feeling not so well?”

 

Shaw just continued to stare at her defiantly. After a moment however, her vision began to swim and it felt as if the floor was moving. _What the hell?_

 

“D-did you drug me?” the former ISA operative asked incredulously, her speech already slurred slightly.

 

The other woman just smirked again. “Well, we’ve all seen how much of a fighter you are. I didn’t want to risk you to fight your way out of here before I’ve got my answers.” She shrugged. “Sorrry for not playing fair,” she said, although her voice and whole demeanor told Shaw that _‘sorry’_ was the last thing this woman was.

 

 _They must’ve somehow spiked my water_ , the Machine’s Primary Asset thought as she fell to one knee, not able to hold herself upright anymore. _Fucking assholes._ “I’m going to kill you,” Shaw growled, venom in her voice. The quiet chuckle she received from the men around her, told the Persian asset that they didn’t believe that she could act on her threat at the moment. _Well_ , she actually couldn’t. The drug was working fast, paralyzing Shaw’s body and mind in no time, leaving her quite defenseless. _Damn, Root was right to have a bad feeling about this._

 

“Why don’t we go and see what your friend’s up to?” Sameen heard Pai Gow say in this sickenly sweet voice of hers that made the Persian want to bash in her skull. Right now, however, the former ISA operative was as harmless as a kitten.

 

From the corner of her eye, the Persian could see one of the men advancing. In one last desperate attempt to defend herself, Shaw threw herself into her attacker with her full body weight. However, the drugs in her system slowed down her movements, making it quite easy for Pai Gow’s lackey to grab the Persian’s arm and twist it behind her back painfully until there was a sickening pop. Sameen bit back a groan as hot white pain raced through her body, radiating from her dislocated shoulder.

 

The man then took a swing towards her head. Being a trained operative, Shaw knew at least twelve different maneuvers to defend herself and incapacitate her attacker. Nevertheless, in her drugged state she was unable to do anything but take the forceful blow to her temple.

 

Pain exploded behind her eyes and Sameen fell to the side like a sack of potatoes, her skull connecting with the concrete floor as she did so. _Root_ , she thought. Then the world went black around her.

 

\-----

 

Meanwhile, the hacker was huddled up against the steel wall of the file cabinet again after having shot her last three rounds. One of the bullets had found its mark, having killed or at least seriously injured one more of Pai Gow’s lackeys. Unfortunately, Devon and one of his pals were still standing. And they still had some rounds in their magazines. _Fuck…_

 

Leaning her head against the wall behind her for a second, Root wondered if she would die now. For _real_ this time. After everything she’d been through, surviving an AI apocalypse and a high-calibre shot to the chest, she might actually die in a fucking warehouse, just because some dumb goons had a lucky day. _So not fair._ The thought made her want to laugh hysterically and throw up at the same time. She just hoped that Sameen would have more luck than herself.

 

“I’ve heard your gun click, _chica_.” Devon. “It’s over. Come out with your hands up and we won’t kill you. Yet.”

 

 _Great._ Root swallowed. Hard. _Out of ammo and out of options._ She had no other choice but to comply with Devon’s orders. _I knew I had a bad feeling about this…_

 

 _“I have contacted Detective Fusco. Help is on the way,”_ the Machine’s voice assured the hacker through her earpiece.

 

 _It’s something_ , Root thought. However, she wasn’t sure if she’d be alive when Fusco and the forces would arrive. _Well, there’s just one way to find out, huh?_ Swallowing down her fear, the hacker pulled out her earpiece and crunched it under her boot. _No need for those dumbasses to find out about the Machine._

 

“Okay, I’ll surrender,” she called then, getting up from her crouched position behind the file cabinet, and stepped forward with both hands raised up. Besides Diaz there were now two other bodies lying on the floor and Root felt some kind of satisfaction for having eliminated at least two of those assholes.

 

Although he looked quite pale from the loss of blood, Devon was still standing and aiming his gun at Root. The hacker totally awaited a bullet to the brain now, but to her surprise, nothing came. Instead, the young man she’d tased some time earlier limped through the door. Devon pivoted his gun at him, but aimed it back at Root in one smooth motion as soon as he recognized the guy.

 

“Carlos?” he asked.

 

The guy named Carlos pointed at Root. “Bitch has a taser,” he growled.

 

Devon raised one eyebrow at the hacker. Knowing what he wanted, Root reluctantly reached behind her, pulling the taser from her waistband and showing the item to the men surrounding her.

 

“Kick it over,” Devon demanded and the hacker did so.

 

Pai Gow’s right-hand man picked up the taser, although his moves were slowed down because of the gunshot wound. He looked over at Carlos then. “She tased you with this, _cuate_?

 

Carlos nooded, a furious look in his eyes.

 

“Well, payback’s a bitch, I think,” Devon said, smirking at Root sadistically as he passed the taser to Carlos, still leveling the gun at her head.

 

The hacker already knew what would follow. _Hell_ , if she’d been in Carlos’ position she would have done exactly the same thing. As many people she’d tased in the past, she’d rarely been at the receiving end of a tasing. Nonetheless, Root _had_ been tased before. She already knew how much it hurt. However, nothing can _really_ prepare you for the torment caused by 500.000 volt shooting through your body.

 

Root’s legs denied their service as the first wave of electricity raced through her nervous system and she slumped to the ground, dazed. Apparently, this hadn’t stilled Carlos’ thirst for revenge because he bent down and positioned the taser in his hand to the hacker’s chest again.

 

Root’s heart was beating wildly, just under the spot where the taser was pressing down and the hacker thought about Control and the last time she had been tortured. She wondered if _this_ would be it – the thing that would push her already damaged heart over the edge.

 

Just a second later, another electric shock wave made Root’s muscles spasm painfully again and this time she couldn’t suppress a scream of agony. Then, thankfully, her mind slipped into unconsciousness.

 

\-----

 

When Root came to again, she was bound to a chair in the middle of the storeroom, thick ropes around her legs, arms and chest. Obviously, the tasing hadn’t killed her, although her heart was still pounding wildly in her chest. Root’s mouth felt dry, her skin was clammy and her mind felt quite muddled. She testingly moved her hands, pulling, but all the handcuffs did was clink uselessly against the chair legs. Root’s phone was gone, but if she was lucky, they hadn’t found the bobby pin she kept in the pocket of her jeans for cases like that. Anyway, there was no way to fetch the item now.

 

The hacker sighed quietly. She hated being tied up. It went against all her instincts and the only person she’d ever allowed to cuff her to the headboard for fun was Shaw. So far, they’d done it only once though, because, unlike her girlfriend, Root didn’t really get a thrill out of being bound. Sameen had realized pretty fast that the hacker wasn’t into bondage that much when it was _her_ to be tied up. Ever since, the zip ties in their nightstand drawer had been used on Shaw exclusively.

 

Through her half closed eyes the hacker could see Diaz body, still lying on the ground a few feet away. Obviously, nobody had cared enough to remove his corpse. Root felt sad for the former Marine suddenly. Despite his unhealthy fascination with Shaw, he apparently had been one of the good guys. Just someone who’d wanted to solve the murder of his friend. _That’s a noble objective, isn’t it?_ And now he was dead. A victim, they couldn’t have saved.

 

Groaning in pain softly and opening her eyes fully, Root finally spotted the person kneeling at the other side of the room, three of Pai Gow’s lackeys around her, guns trained at her. “Sameen,” the hacker muttered under her breath.

 

Her girlfriend’s presence was comforting and unsettling at the same time. Comforting, because the compact Persian was still alive. Unsettling, because she was a prisoner too and looked like she’d been heavily drugged. Her right arm was hanging uselessly at her side. Above that, Shaw seemed to be only half-conscious. She barely held herself upright, not looking as if she’d kick some butt in the next few minutes. _God, we’re in such a fucked up mess._

 

“Oh, you’re back,” Pai Gow said as she stepped into Root’s view. “Then we can start with a round of questions, shall we?”

 

The hacker looked up at her captor, still trying to stop the quaking in her muscles from the tasing, but smiling perkily nevertheless. “Well, I think I’d choose answer B. But I’d like to use my telephone joker to be sure.”

 

The Asian woman smirked, though she appeared anything but amused. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

 

Root shrugged. “I live to amuse.”

 

Pai Gow raised one perfectly trimmed brow. “Is that so?” A beat. “Then amuse me with telling me what a private investigator is doing on one of my fight events.” She pulled out Root’s badge that declared her as Drew Bennett, P.I., and hold it up for the hacker to see.

 

“I just love the action,” Root answered nonchalantly with a shrug of her shoulders. She leaned towards the other woman, as far as the ropes around her chest allowed her, looking at her conspiratorially. “Besides, all those sweaty people are really doing it for me.“

 

Pai Gow apparently didn’t have the patience for the hacker’s antics, because the next moment she threw the badge away and her open palm cracked across Root’s left cheek. _Ouch!_ Her head jerked to the side with the force of it and somewhere in the distance, the Analog Interface heard Sameen’s angry growl of disapproval.

 

Root turned her head back around, trying not to grimace at the stinging pain. _What a bitch._

 

The MMA fight promoter glared at the hacker in annoyance. “Okay, _next_ try then, Miss Bennett – if this is even your _real_ name. From the few things I know, I assume that you and your friend were here to keep an eye on Diaz. Why else would you barge in here and shoot my men?” A small pause. “You were trying to protect Diaz, right?” Another short pause, then “Did someone _hire_ you to do this?”

 

The hacker remained silent, glaring at the Asian woman defiantly, bracing herself for the next blow that would most likely follow.

 

Pai Gow just shrugged, slapping her prisoner again, this time with much more force, making Root’s ears ring.

 

“You should answer me.”

 

Silence. A challenging gaze.

 

Another backhand to the hacker’s face, the cracking sound deafening in the small room.

 

Root gasped quietly and grimaced slightly as her face stung with pain, but gave Pai Gow a defiant smirk nevertheless. “Your method of interrogation is really interesting,” she said after taking a deep breath. “One might think you’re trying to turn me on,” she drawled saucily, although face slapping definitely wasn’t one of the hacker’s kinks.

 

The Asian woman merely raised a brow at that. “Believe me, that’s just a warm-up, _cutie_ ,” she replied, the corners of her mouth curling up into a half smile that put every nerve ending Root had on edge. “Anyway,” she continued with a look in Shaw’s direction, “I’ve got the impression that you two are close.”

 

Root really didn’t like where this was going. Hopefully, Fusco and the police would be there soon to save their asses. _Wow, I’d never thought that I would set my hopes on Lionel one day._

 

“Your friend’s tough,” Pai Gow said approvingly. “I’ve seen enough people like her. She won’t tell us anything, no matter how much we’ll hurt her.” Clearly, she was speaking from experience. She looked back at Root, her dark eyes regarding her prisoner coolly. “You, on the other hand, will break eventually.” She shrugged. “Not because you can’t take the pain yourself-“ She smiled at Root dangerously, “-but because you can’t stand to see your friend getting hurt. Am I right?”

 

The hacker stayed silent, although she was cursing mentally. Pai Gow totally nailed it. Sameen _was_ Root’s weakness, there was no way denying it. However, the hacker knew that she was the Persian’s weakness, too. Sameen might be able to withstand torture for much longer than Root, having military and special forces training, but the Machine’s Analog Interface wasn’t sure how long her girlfriend would last if she had to witness Root being tortured. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to find out…

 

Although Root feared that they wouldn’t be so lucky tonight. _Dammit._

 

Sensing that she wouldn’t get an answer from her prisoner, Pai Gow, eventually, gave her lackeys a small nod and two men, Carlos and another guy, grabbed Sameen by the upper arms, hauling her up. The Persian grunted in pain as the movement made her alrady hurting shoulder send fiery agony lancing through her body again. She struggled against her captors. However, her resistance was weak, the drugs in her system making her movements quite ineffective.

 

Root’s jaw grinded at the sight of her usually powerful girlfriend being almost defenseless. God, she really wanted to hurt those people, punching every single one of them until they were a bloody mess on the floor. And then put a bullet in each of their skulls.

 

Shaw was dragged across the room, her eyes meeting Root’s briefly. The Persian appeared to be barely conscious. Her face was pale, but showed her usual expressionless demeanor. However, her eyes revealed the concern she was under. The hacker held Sameen’s gaze for a moment, trying to convey wordless comfort.

 

The former ISA agent might’ve been only half conscious when they’d dragged her into the room, but she had noticed Diaz’ lifeless body lying on the ground immediately. They finally had the answer to the question why the Machine had given them the former Marine’s number, although this wasn’t the way Shaw had imagined to find out if he’d be the victim or the perp. Sameen felt angry at not having been able to save Diaz and something close to sadness, because – _dammit_ – she really had started to like this guy. She just hoped that Root and her wouldn’t end up being the next two victims tonight.

 

The next moment, Shaw was roughly shoved into a chair behind Root, so that they were back to back. The Persian’s legs, arms and chest were bound with ropes in the same way they’d restrained the hacker. Then, Carlos cuffed their hands together behind their backs. With Devon pointing a gun at her head, Root had no choice but to let him concede.

 

“Well,” Pai Gow said finally, after her prisoners were restrained again, “let’s move to a second round of Q and A.” She picked up the shot of Sameen tailing Diaz and shoved it into Root’s face. “Diaz was snooping around after his friend’s death. I know that _your_ friend,” she jerked her chin to a bound Shaw behind the hacker’s back, “was following Diaz around. Now, you two showing up here tonight with him, trying to sell me that you’re only here for the fights, is interesting, don’t you think?”

 

She threw the photo away and picked up Root’s badge instead. “Your badge here says you’re a P.I. And obviously, you two are a team.” She tilted her head. “So, who are you _really_?”

 

The hacker just shrugged her shoulders. “Concerned third party.” _Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?_

 

Pai Gow’s brows furrowed a bit at the answer. “Interesting. Your friend told me the same.”

 

Root cracked a smirk. “Then it must be true, right?”

 

The other woman looked away for a second, shaking her head and chuckling quietly, although with no real humor behind the action. She then looked back at Root, her face showing annoyance with her uncooperative prisoner. “Who knows you are here?” she asked eventually.

 

When Root remained silent, the Asian woman shook her head again. “I think you’re quite intelligent,” she said. “So you already know that you won’t make it out of here _alive_ anyway.”

 

The hacker swallowed at that, feeling a swell of fear spiking up in her chest like an unfortunate reminder of her humanity and she viciously pushed it down. “I’ve guessed so,” she muttered a reply, trying to make her voice sound steady. _Fusco, where are you?_

 

“Well,” Pai Gow said, “you have two options then. First, you be a good girl and tell me the things I’m interested in. And I actually mean _you_ , because your partner seems a little bit out of it.” A small pause. “Then your deaths will be quick and easy.”

 

Root swallowed again, trying to keep her cool at her current predicament. For a moment, she could hear Shaw’s uneven breaths behind her. She had to be in a really bad shape for not even _trying_ to make a quip so far. Or threatening their captors with killing them in twenty different ways with a paper clip. _Dammit, Sameen._

 

“Second,” the Asian woman continued, “you _don’t_ tell me what I want to know, and my men will _beat_ it out of you. And then they’ll kill you and your friend. _Slowly_ and _painfully_.” The mocking smile on her face told Root that the woman was quite delighted at this idea.

 

It didn’t sound as if this was the first time Pai Gow threatened someone with pain and an awful death, and the hacker was sure that the other woman’s path was paved with more than Diaz’ corpse. If she wouldn’t be tied up and in danger of losing her life any moment now, Root might actually have been quite impressed.

 

The Machine’s Analog Interface kept her involuntary reaction to Pai Gow’s threat down to a subtle twitch of her face muscles. However, there was a storm of fury and desperation raging inside her. She was used to be in control of whatever situation she was placed in, but right now, she felt quite powerless. _Damn bad feeling._

 

Tied up or not, as long as Root had a god whispering in her ear, she’d feel almost untouchable. However, the Machine wasn’t supporting her with mantras right now. Even Sameen’s presence, which usually would give the hacker strength and comfort, didn’t inspire Root with confidence, but left a bitter taste in her mouth. _She’ll die, too. And I can’t do anything to save her._ The thougt terrified Root to the core.

 

When there wasn’t a reaction from either of her prisoners, Pai Gow nodded shortly, a sadistic smirk on her face. “Alright, I see you choose the second option. Well, have it your way then.” She gave Devon a nod and he advanced towards the bound hacker, after having stowed away his gun. The other bulky lackey took his place at Shaw’s side behind Root’s back, while Carlos still lingered nearby, a P226R in his hand.

 

“Wait!” Root called and Devon stopped in his movements.

 

Pai Gow raised one eyebrow. “You wanna talk after all?”

 

Root shook her head. “No.” She glared defiantly at the other woman. “Because there’s nothing to talk about.” She shrugged. “However, I’m curious. Why did Diaz have to die? Was it because he came close to figuring out that you’ve got his friend killed?” She tilted her head slightly. “Did Perez discover something he shouldn’t have?”

 

The Asian woman chuckled lowly, while eying Root with a mocking smirk on her face. “You sure are full of questions for someone who’s in no position to ask them.”

 

The hacker shrugged again. “Well, I thought I’d ask them because you’re going to kill me anyway, right?” She congratulated herself for sounding a lot more confident than she really was.

 

Pai Gow chuckled again. “Well, you have guts. I’ll give you that.” She shrugged. “It’s Diaz own fault that he had to go around snooping,” she answered eventually.

 

“So Perez’ death _does_ go on your account,” Root concluded.

 

Pai Gow shrugged again. “The guy wasn’t clever enough to keep to his own business.”

 

“Well, I assume he discovered your secondary business,” the hacker guessed, remembering the police report she’d read on Fusco’s computer. “I don’t think that he would’ve had a problem with illegal betting,” she mused. “So… drug dealing?”

 

The Asian woman raised her brows slightly. _Bingo._ “Aren’t you a clever girl?” she asked with a patronizing smile. “Devon here,” she nodded at her right-hand man, “is a pro at getting rid of any kind of problems.”

 

 _So he’s the one who’s bashed in Perez’ skull after his last fight_ , Root thought. _Obviously, before he could tell someone about his discovery._ However, the hacker couldn’t be delighted in finding the former Marine’s killer much, because said killer was standing right in front of her bound self now.

 

“He’s got a bit of an aggressive streak,” Pai Gow continued nonchalantly as she leaned against a table, her arms crossed over her chest. “But, you’re going to find that out for yourself now,” she added with a smirk.

 

The Machine’s Analog Interface braced herself as Devon advanced her, the muscles straining against his shirt, a murderous look an his face. _Well, hardly surprising_ , Root thought. _I’ve shot him and killed two of his pals._ _Darn._

 

The next moment, Root’s head whipped to the side after Devon had dealed out a mighty swing to the hacker’s jaw. Apparently, the gunshot wound in the man’s chest wasn’t limiting his movements much. Nor the force of his blows.

 

Root saw stars for a moment, biting back a groan of pain. _God, that hurts._ Her jaw ached and she slid her tongue across her teeth to make sure that they were still intact. She felt Shaw pulling at their cuffs behind her back. Another punch to the face, which left Root’s cheek bruised, was followed by a solid blow into her gut, that made the hacker double over slightly in her chair.

 

“Touch her a-again… and you’re the first I’ll kill, _asshole_.” A weak, but nevertheless angry voice behind Root said suddenly.

 

_Sameen._

 

Shaw had been drifting in and out of consciousness the last few minutes. Although just barely awake now, she definitely heard – and felt – Root being beaten up behind her, every punch sending a pull to the cuffs their hands were bound together with. The tought of her crazy hacker girlfriend getting hurt like this sent a white hot rage of fury through Sameen’s mind and made her wish to kill their aggressors with her bare hands. Sadly, in her drugged and bound state this wasn’t most likely. However, that didn’t keep her from uttering threats.

 

The lackey in front of her drew back his fist, after a small nod from Pai Gow, and hit Shaw square across the face. When she barely reacted, he hit her again. The Persian asset gritted her teeth, no sound escaping her lips, despite her skull pounding with pain awfully and feeling like it would explode at any moment.

 

A third blow followed and Shaw’s nose broke with a sickening crunch under the force of it. She could feel Root pulling at the cuffs with all her might and could vaguely hear her furious roars, shouting a quite impressive lot of curses and swear words at their captors, as she tried to breathe through the pain. Which was kinda difficult with blood pooring out of your nose like the Niagara Falls.

 

However, pain was something Shaw knew she could endure. Had endured. Would endure. Could even enjoy. It was the thought of Root being hurt that she couldn’t bear as quite as easily. Despite having whacked her girlfriend herself on occasions, the thought of Root being in real pain and brutally beaten up sent white hot rage through Shaw’s mind. Had there really been a time when she’d wanted to kill the hacker herself?

 

 _Well, times have changed._ Because now, Shaw would’ve rather taken any torture their captors could’ve dished out than hearing Root being punched again. Unfortunately, Devon wasn’t done with the hacker yet.

 

Root groaned as another solid punch met her face, leaving her with the coppery taste of a split lip. Then, Devon’s fist hammered into her ribcage full force, taking her breath away. Another punch to her torso and Root felt something inside crack. It might have been a rib. _Fuck._

 

The Machine’s Analog Interface slumped over slightly, fighting to catch her breath, coughing. The cuffs were cutting into her wrists and giving her something to focus on other than the need to retch as a wave of nausea overcame her. The hacker’s heart thumped against her ribcage to an erratic rhythm. A song of desperation and pain, and her captors were definitely enjoying the show. She struggled to keep the tears out of her eyes, not wanting to show this kind of weakness.

 

A long time ago, Root had told Harold that a good end would be a privilege for her. Well, Root feared that the end might’ve come for her tonight. However, being beaten to death she wouldn’t label as a _‘good_ end _’_ exactly. Maybe she hadn’t deserved this privilege…

 

“Well, look, who’s not so cocky anymore,” Pai Gow mockingly stated at Root’s slumped over form.

 

The hacker coughed again and spit out some blood. “I don’t know... I could do this all day,” she wheezed, a small smirk on her face despite the pain.

 

Behind the hacker, a similar smirk pulled at Shaw’s lips. Did this crazy chick just deliver a Captain America quote?

 

Just as Devon was about to punch the hacker again, the door to the storeroom was teared open and one of Pai Gow’s lackeys came into view, an agitated look on his face.

 

Pai Gow glanced at him, annoyed by the disruption. “What’s wrong, Nick?”

 

“Boss, there’s smoke in the hall and we can’t find Paco and Ricky,” Nick told her nervously.

 

Root felt a gleam of hope at that. Maybe this wasn’t the end.

 

The information made Pai Gow frown. “Police?” she asked.

 

Nick shook his head. “We’ve seen no one at least,” he replied, his voice sounding quite uncertain.

 

The Asian MMA promoter huffed and got up. “Well, looks like we have to interrupt this party for now,” she said, glancing over at Root’s disheveled form. “But don’t worry, we’ll continue as soon as we’ve figured out what the problem downstairs is,” she promised, her eyes glinting dangerously.

 

Root watched, as Pai Gow moved to the door, her henchmen in tow, leaving the hacker and Sameen where they were, still handcuffed and bound to the chairs. Apparently, their captors weren’t worried about them escaping. _And they might actually be right with this_ , the hacker thought.

 

“If we’re lucky that’s Fusco and a S.W.A.T. team downstairs,” she told Sameen, getting a weak hum in reply. _Otherwise, we’ll most likely be screwed._

 

 

 

_Present time_

Sameen slipped in and out of consciousness. Her broken nose was caked in blood, which made it difficult to breathe properly, and her head was pounding with pain. Her dislocated shoulder hurt like a bitch, even more than before now because of the weird angle her arm was bound behind her back.  

 

Right behind her, Shaw could hear Root’s labored breathing. She was much likely in a similar physical condition as Sameen after the beating she’d taken. The hacker obviously was in pain – and right now, there was nothing Sameen could’ve done to help her. At least not, while this fucking drug was running through her body still, leaving her on the verge of passing out.

 

“Root…?” Shaw’s voice was muffled because of her broken nose, her girlfriend’s name somewhat slurred because of the drugs in her system. Nevertheless, the hacker had heard her.

 

“I’m here, Sameen,” she replied, searching for the Persian’s hands with her own where they were cuffed together between their backs.

 

The smaller agent felt Root grabbing two of her fingers – more the hacker couldn’t reach because of the weird angle – as she gave a low chuckle at her girlfriend’s response. Talking felt quite difficult, but Shaw mumbled a reply, nevertheless. “Yeah… Wh’re else woul’ you be… huh? ‘ways stuck on me… like a shadow…” _God, I’m sounding like I’m drunk…_

 

“Yeah,” Root agreed, a light smile playing around her lips despite the unpleasant situation they were in, “and you _like_ it…”

 

Sameen just hummed. “To be… ho-honest?” She grimaced slightly at her struggle with the words, summoning all her willpower to form a somewhat coherent sentence. “Right n-now… I don’t really like… that you’re stuck ‘ere with me, Root.” _Hurt and defenseless. Me, not able to protect you._ _Damn bad feeling._

 

The hacker gave a short, shaky laugh at this. A year ago, she would’ve answered with something along the lines of _‘Didn’t know you cared, Shaw’_ , in a way that would’ve been located between teasing and fondness, mixed with some insecurities about the answer to the question if a former qovernmental assassin with an Axis II personality disorder really could care about a reformed killer for hire. However, as it had turned out, the fact that Samen Shaw cared about Root was as certain as the sun rising in the east every morning. _Lucky me._

 

Root’s laugh turned into coughing a second later, and she grimaced in pain as the movement rattled her aching chest. _Maybe one or two cracked ribs?_ Then, she winced as her grimacing reminded her painfully of her bruised left cheek. “Like it or not, Sameen,” she wheezed, finally, “we’re in this together.” After a pause, “Don’t worry, Sweetie. This is not my first rodeo. You’re not the only one who can take a little beating.”

 

 _Not the point._ Shaw shook her head slightly while she looked up at the ceiling, where one single light bulb illuminated the room. The former ISA operative noticed that her vision was slightly blurred. She blinked a few times, but nothing changed. _Damn._

 

“I _know_ that,” Sameen finally muttered. “But maybe… I don’t like it if anyone else besides me is kickin’ my girlfriend’s ass,” she added after a beat.

 

There was a quiet chuckle on Root’s side, followed by a moment of silence between them. Then, “Did you… did you just call me your _girlfriend_?” The hacker sounded honestly surprised.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. _Typically Root…_ “Can we… concentrate on the… ‘mportant facts here?” The words weren’t as slurred as a few minutes before. Nevertheless, the drugs floating through the former Marine’s body were still making it quite difficult for her to form a coherent sentence. _And that’s why you should never do drugs, kids._

 

“But that _is_ an important fact, Sameen,” Root argued, sounding quite cheerful for someone, who was beaten, bruised and bound to a chair. She gave Shaw’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’ve never called me your girlfriend before.”

 

Sameen sighed. _Damn this woman._ She just knew she would never hear the end of it now. _Well, if we live that long…_ “Well… _Pain in my ass_ or _significant annoyance…_ didn’t seem appr’priate… given the circumstances,” the former Marine grumblingly joked, while she fought the urge to close her eyes just for a minute. 

 

Root gave a low chuckle at Shaw’s words and squeezed her fingers lightly again. “Given the circumstances? You mean you wanted me to hear you use the word just one time in case we die here tonight?” The Persian just rolled her eyes at the feigned joyful tone of the hacker’s voice. “And here I thought I was sappy enough for both of us, Sameen,” the hacker added. Despite her teasing tone, Root was fully aware of the seriousness of their situation. _Beaten, bound and weaponless. That’s usually not good._

 

“Oh, shut up, Root,” Shaw muttered, but there was no real anger behind her words. She sighed, then asked, “How are you?”

 

“Just peachy,” Root replied, again with faked cheerfulness. “You?”

 

“Same,” came the former Marine’s short answer. They both knew it was a lie. After a pause, she said, “They’ll come back soon…” _If it turns out there isn’t a rescue team downstairs._ “We’ve got to find a way to… get rid of those ropes ‘n’ cuffs.” She blinked a few times, trying to fight the upcoming nausea. Add the blurred vision and the killer headache and you’ve got quite a few symptoms of a concussion. _Great…_ There were things even a trained operative couldn’t win a fight against.

 

“I totally agree,” the hacker answered and wiggled her hands a little bit against the restraints, the sudden movement sending a new wave of pain through Sameen’s dislocated shoulder. The smaller woman couldn’t suppress a groan as white hot agony seared through her arm and the right side of her body.

 

Root abruptly stilled her hands, not wanting to hurt Sameen further. “Sorry,” she muttered an apology. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been a piece of cake for Shaw to get out of the cuffs and the rest of the restraints, that much the hacker knew. However, her favorite Persian seemed to be in a bad shape, her injuries and the drugs taking their toll on her body and brain.

 

The taller woman tried a different approach then, leaning against the ropes around her chest a little more, using the tiny bit of maneuvering room she had. _Maybe I can get rid of these bonds at least…_ A split second later, searing pain rushed through Root’s thorax, making her gasp and see black dots before her eyes. _Yep, definitely one or two cracked ribs. Fuck._ The hacker wondered briefly, if her bad luck with being shot in the shoulder had been replaced by a recurring misfortune of having her ribs bruised. _Well_ , at least she hadn’t been shot this time. Yet.

 

“You… ‘kay?” Shaw sounded as if she’d pass out any moment now, her words slurred and barely audible. It made Root feel quite uneasy.

 

“I’m fine,” the hacker wheezed out, despite the fire burning in her chest. She swallowed, trying to calm the sudden panic she felt wash over her like a wave. _We’ve been in worse situations, right?_

 

“Any way to… contact Big Eye in the Sky?”

 

Root shook her head. “No earpiece, no phone.” For the umptieth time this evening, the hacker mentally kicked herself for not having a new CI in her head yet. At least, this way she would’ve been able to communicate with the Machine. “No surveillance cameras.” She sighed. “She can’t help us right now,” the hacker concluded. She couldn’t help the sinking feeling of dread that flooded her at the thought of the shitty situation they were in. Nevertheless, she tried to keep her voice casual and confident. “But we’ll find a way to get out this. Right?”

 

No answer.

 

“Sameen?”

 

Root gently squeezed the smaller woman’s fingers behind her back. No response. Apparently, her girlfriend had blacked out finally.

 

The hacker swallowed. Hard. There was no way for her to know if help was already on site or if Pai Gow and her men would come back any minute, to finish the job they’d started. In their bound state Root and Sameen were sitting ducks. She had to find a way to get out of the cuffs. _Now. Fast._

 

There was still a chance that their captors had missed the bobby pin in Root’s jeans pocket, but she needed to free one hand first so that she could reach it. _Damn._ She swallowed hard again. There was only one way she knew how to escape steel cuffs. And it wasn’t really pleasant…

 

Root took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Bracing herself, she grabbed her left thumb with her right hand behind her back, the cuffs clinking as she moved. _Okay, come on. You’ve got worse. You can do this._ One harsh pull – and the thumb was dislocated.

 

 _Fuck!_ The hacker gritted her teeth, biting back a groan, as searing pain accompanied the dislocation. However, she’d done it, allowing her to pull her left hand through the cuff carefully. She took another deep breath – and popped the thumb back into place behind her back. Her eyes watered at the excruciatingly pain that shot through her hand, a soft whimper escaping her lips. _Note to self, this always looks less painful in the movies._

 

Ignoring the pain in her thumb as best as she could, Root reached into her left pocket with two shaky fingers. The bobby pin was still there and she pulled it out carefully. Not able to use her thumb to the full extent, it took the hacker a few tries to open the cuff around her right wrist, but eventually she’d done it.

 

Fortunately, the ropes she’d been bound to the chair with weren’t not all that tight, so Root only had needed a few moments to get rid of them, even though she had ben painfully aware of her bruised ribs. She had just turned to get an unconscious Shaw out of her restraints, too, as Root heard the muffled pops of shots downstairs. Maybe the cops had shown up finally. _Okay, time to get moving._

 

As fast as she could with only one hand functioning properly and her movements limited because of the injuries on her torso, the hacker loosened the ropes around her girlfriend’s body. The bruises and the blood on her face made Root sick for a moment, but she swallowed the feeling down. _There’ll be time for that later._

 

Just as she franticly searched her brain for a way to get an unconscious Sameen out of here, the door slammed open. Root looked up, startled, and then time seemed to run in slow motion.

 

A furious Devon needed a second to realize that their prisoners – he’d come to kill, apparently – were about to escape. A second later, he pulled up his gun.

 

Root, realizing that she’d never be fast enough to close the distance between them to attack Pai Gow’s lackey and maybe get her hands on the gun, did the only thing her instincts told her to. – She threw herself in front of Shaw’s unconscious body.

 

A shot rang out.

 

Root closed her eyes shut, waiting for the impending impact of the bullet, the searing pain of hot metal forcing its way through her flesh.

 

But nothing happened.

 

Instead, there was the telltale sound of a body falling to the ground. When the hacker hesitantly opened her eyes again, she could see Devon laying on the ground, blood seeping out of a gunshot wound to the head. _What the…?_

 

Root’s eyes went to the other side of the room, where the shot had obviously come from. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Cain Diaz, still lying on the floor, barely holding his upper body upright, his right hand holding a Ruger LCP .380, he’d apparently drawn from his concealed ankle holster.

 

“You’re not dead,” the hacker blurted out.

 

Cain gave her a tight smile. “Yeah. I’m just as surprised as you.” He groaned in pain as he moved slightly. “Bullet must’ve knocked me unsconscious. I just came to moments ago.” He gave Root a little smirk, despite the pain he was in. “Just in time to save your ass, obviously.”

 

The hacker twisted her mouth slightly at that. _Damn_ , how much she hated the damsel in distress trope. At least, when it wasn’t one compact and vaguely angry looking Persian woman who’d play the knight in shining armor. However, Cain had just saved their lives.

 

“Well, thank you for that,” Root muttered, the little smile on her face being genuine for once.

 

Cain just nodded. “What’s with Sameen?” he asked a moment later. “She okay?”

 

“She’s out cold,” Root replied. “But she’ll be okay.” _At least, I hope so._

 

Moments later, the room was swarmed by a police S.W.A.T. team, led by Fusco and his new partner, Dani Silva. _About time._

 

“Don’t shoot,” Root called as some of the police officers trained their weapons at Cain, who was still holding his gun. “He’s with us.”

 

Holstering his gun, Fusco went over to the hacker, while his new partner and some of the officers attended to Diaz, treating his gunshot wound. “ _Damn_ , Cocoa Puffs, you look like shit,” Lionel stated with a grim expression.

 

Root gave him a warm smile. “It’s good to see you too, Lionel.” She tilted her head to one side and furrowed her brows. “Although it took you some time,” she added in mock reproach.

 

The detective rolled his eyes, good-naturedly. His gaze fell on Sameen and worry filled his heart, when he saw his friend slumped down and unmoving in the chair, her face bloodied and bruised. “Is Tiny…?”

 

“She’s just unconscious,” Root was quick to assure him as she pushed a stray of hair out of Sameen’s face with a gentle touch. “But I think she might have a concussion,” she added as a few officers came over, already beginning to tend to Shaw’s injuries.

 

Reluctantly, Root stepped to the side to let the officers do their work. Sameen was still out cold. Had it been already more than fifteen minutes? The hacker remembered reading something about being unconscious longer than fifteen minutes could cause lasting damages to the brain.

 

Root looked up at Lionel again, worry clearly visible on her face now. “I think she needs a hospital.”

 

Fusco nodded. “Yeah. I think you all do.”

 

\----------

 

“You know what?” Shaw said, hours later, sinking against the soft backrest of the couch in their living room.

 

Root shook her head. Slowly, because it still hurt. Like the rest of her body. “What?”

 

“Your Captain America quote was pretty bad ass,” the Persian replied with a small smirk.

 

Root gave a little smile. “I knew you’d like that.” She sighed then and let herself slump back against the cushions. Carefully, because her whole body seemed to be a landscape of different sorts of pain.

 

Sameen had regained consciousness as soon as they’d talked about getting her to the hospital. As the stubborn woman she was, she’d refused to go to the hospital just because she had been _‘knocked out a bit’_. Shaw’s words. It had required some threatening and then begging from Root for the Persian to actually cave in and let herself get treated at the New York General. Well, Sameen _Hayes_ did, to be exact.

 

After having spent half the night at the hospital, Root and Shaw had checked themselves out finally, returning to their apartment. The adrenaline had finally left both of their bodies, leaving them sore and tired. However, neither Shaw nor Root had found the energy yet to get up from the couch and drag themselves to the bedroom. Therefore, they both were sprawled out on the couch now, with a happy Bear between them, trying to process the things that had happened and the fact that they made it out alive.

 

It had turned out that Shaw actually had a concussion. Therefore, Root had to keep a watchful eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. As if she’d ever done anything else… The bruising from the former ISA operative’s broken nose made her look somewhat like a raccoon and her right arm was in a sling, after her shoulder had been popped back into its socket. Above that, her whole body was littered with bruises.

 

The hacker looked similar, the left side of her face shimmering with bluish-purple discolorations. Her left thumb was in a splint and two of her ribs were slightly cracked.

 

“Want another tylenol?” Root asked as she shifted the ice pack on her torso.

 

“No. I think I’m good,” Shaw replied, softly scratching Bear behind his ears. The drugs they’d slipped her had stopped working, but she still felt kinda dizzy. Above that, Sameen had noticed that she had some memory lapses. Not unusual for a concussion, but nevertheless unpleasant. However, Root had filled her in with the few details she didn’t remember anymore.

 

“You know, I’m kinda disappointed,” the former ISA agent said a moment later.

 

Root furrowed her brows slightly, turning her body more towards Shaw on the couch. Only now, the Persian woman noticed the shirt her girlfriend was wearing. It was plain and black, but it had an overprint that showed a hashtag, followed by _‘root them all’_ in neon green. She wore it in combination with pink fuzzy bunny slippers on her feet. _What a nerd._

 

“About what?” the hacker asked.

 

“About not being able to kill this Devon guy myself for beating the shit out of you,” Sameen answered.

 

Root gave a little shrug. “Well, I think Diaz did a good job taking care of that.”

 

Shaw raised one brow at that. “You like him now?” She eyed her girlfriend in mock suspicion for a moment. “The hits to your head must’ve been harder than I thought.”

 

Root’s lips curled into a half smirk. “Well, I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I _like_ him, but…” She shrugged. “He kinda saved our lives, so I don’t think that I want to kill him anymore,” she said nonchalantly.

 

The former ISA operative shook her head, chuckling lowly.

 

“We could always go and visit this Asian bitch though,” Root said eventually, her eyes shimmering with bloodlust, despite her somewhat disheveled state. “Reciprocrating for her hospitality. Break a few bones. Tase her a bit.” A small pause. “Maybe snap her neck.”

 

Her voice had been a bit playful, despite her words, but the last sentence had come out quite aggressive, no more playfulness about it, and Shaw looked up at her girlfriend questioningly.

 

“What?” the hacker asked, noticing Sameen’s look. “Can’t a girl indulge in some murderous fantasies?” She gave Shaw a small smirk, but the Persian asset’s face was serious.

 

“This Pai Gow woman is lucky that she’s in prison,” Shaw said after a moment and Root could see cold rage shining in her eyes, before the former ISA operative looked down at Bear’s head on her leg. “The last person who’s hurt you…” A pause. “I’ve put two bullets into his heart,” she added silently.

 

The hacker’s eyes widened slightly at this. _This is new…_ “You mean…?”

 

Shaw nodded, finally looking up at Root again. “Yeah. The guy who’s shot you in the car.”

 

“Wow…,” Root’s voice was almost a whisper now. “I’ve never had anyone who’d revenge me.” She gave Shaw a small smile.

 

The Persian asset shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “You would’ve done the same for me,” she said off-handedly.

 

Root nodded. _Yeah, I would. And I have._ “Actually I did,” she replied. “I’ve killed Martine,” she continued as Sameen raised her brows in surprise. “Snapped her neck.” There was a hint of pride in her voice.

 

Shaw’s eyebrows remained at their position for a few seconds. “I’ve always wondered where the bitch went…,” she muttered under her breath. She then nodded appreciatively. “Obviously, you’ve made good use of the moves I’ve thought you.”

 

Root just grinned at her girlfriend. She then tried to move her body into a more comfortable position, wincing when the movement reminded her of her bruised ribs. “You know, sweetie,” she said, “the thing you’ve promised to do to me earlier in the storeroom…?”

 

Shaw nodded. “What about it?”

 

The hacker grimaced slightly as a new wave of pain pulsed through her upper body. “I think it has to wait for a while…”

 

“I think so, too,” Sameen agreed. As much as she’d love to make good on her promise as fast as possible, she knew that they both needed to heal a little bit before they could indulge in sexual activities again. Well, she just knew that Root’s girl scout uniform would definitely be part of it as soon as they’d be back in the game.

 

They both fell silent after this, enjoying the comforting quietness of their apartment for a few moments, with just the soft whirring of the fridge in the backround and the steady rushing of the New York traffic coming from the outside.

 

Root had almost drifted to sleep when Shaw’s voice broke the silence again. “You think we’re not on top of our game?”

 

The hacker blinked a few times to chase away the fog of sleep. She had somehow expected a question like this, because she’d asked herself before if they’re not bringing their A-game. Admittedly, almost losing their number, walking into a trap, getting their asses kicked and almost killed, hadn’t been their best work so far. She shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, Sameen,” she replied honestly. “Maybe this whole war against Samaritan has taken its toll on us.”

 

“Maybe,” Shaw said.

 

There was a small pause, before Root voiced a suggestion, “Maybe we need a vacation.” She chuckled. It had been a joke.

 

“Maybe that’s what we need,” the former ISA operative agreed and the hacker looked at her in surprise.

 

“You serious?”

 

Shaw nodded. “Yeah. Why not? We both need some time to heal, clear our minds a bit, charge our batteries…” She looked down at Bear dozing off peacefully between them. “And our big boy could use a little bit of sunshine.” _Not to mention a fairly pale someone._

 

Root’s mouth turned into a smile. She’d traveled the world a lot in the past, but it always had been for a job, either her own or for the Machine. To go on a simple non-work related vacation with Sameen and Bear would be a nice change. Knowing that the all-seeing ASI had recruited a fair amount of other assets in the United States, the hacker considered that their own little team had deserved a break and some quality time.

 

 _“May I make some suggestions then regarding possible travel destinations later?”_ the Machine’s voice suddenly sounded through the speaker of Root’s laptop.

 

“You may,” Root replied with a light smile on her face.

 

Shaw just hummed in agreement. “It just has to be somewhere warm and sunny. With a beach.” A pause. “And nice cocktails,” she added, making Root grin.

 

 _“I’ll make a list,”_ the Machine promised, then went silent again.

 

Root let herself sink further into the cushions on the couch and put her hand on Bear’s back with a soft touch. The dog let out a pleasant sigh, continuing to doze. The next moment, Sameen’s hand was placed over Root’s and the hacker smiled at her girlfriend with half closed eyes.

 

Just as she was about to doze off for a second time this night, there was a knock on the door and the hacker sat up, a bit startled. Bear lifted his head and perked up his ears.

 

“Can’t have a little peace, can we?” Shaw grumbled as she got up from the couch, grabbing her gun from the coffee table, and limped to the door. There were only a few people in the world who had knowledge of this address. Given the time of the night – _or morning?_ – it could only be-

 

“Fusco,” Sameen muttered as she recognized the familiar figure through the spyhole. “Hey, Lionel,” she greeted him when she opened the door for the detective, “To what do we owe the honor of your visit at this late hour? Or should I say _early_ hour?”

 

Fusco shrugged, ignoring the gun still in Sameen’s left hand, but grimaced slightly at her bruised face. “Well, I’d say it’s your own fault, because you two lunatics left the hospital before the doctors cleared you,” he replied, a bit grumpy.

 

Shaw cracked a smirk. “You know I have a MD, right?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Fusco muttered, rolling his eyes slightly. “I just thought I drop by and look how you two are doing.”

 

The smile the former ISA operative gave the detective was genuine. “We’re okay, Lionel. Just a little banged up.”

 

“Or a little bit more,” Root quipped from the couch behind her and Shaw rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

 

“Come on in and have a look at the other patient then,” Sameen offered and stepped aside to let Fusco inside their apartment.

 

“Hey, Detective,” Root greeted Lionel as he advanced towards the couch, Shaw following behind him.

 

“Hey, Cocoa Puffs,” Fusco acknowledged with a little smile as he petted Bear’s head. The dog was happily wagging his tail at seeing the detective, but didn’t get up from his warm and comfortable spot on the couch to greet him properly. _Well, apparently even dogs have their priorities._

 

For a second, Lionel’s eyes went to the fuzzy bunny slippers on the hacker’s feet, but then he decided to kindly ignore them. _Hell_ , he’d seen much weirder things in his life.

 

“Thanks again for saving our asses back there, Lionel,” Root said gratefully.

 

Fusco nodded. “Yeah. Was a helluva surprise when Wall-E called me at the precinct, telling me you’re in trouble.” It had cost some effort to convince his superiors to send a S.W.A.T. team to a vacant warehouse just because of an anonymous tip of a possible shooting. “I’m just glad we made it in time.” He shrugged. “I mean, my life would be kinda boring without you being a pain in my ass,” he said jokingly.

 

The hacker tilted her head slightly, a smirk on her face. “I agree.”

 

Shaw chuckled lowly. _Yep, wouldn’t want to miss this one special pain in the ass._

 

Fusco reached into his coat pocket then, fetching a familiar item. “Thought you’d want to have this back,” he muttered as he held up Root’s taser.

 

“Oh,” the hacker said, her eyes shining with joy, “thank you very much.” She took the taser from the detective’s hands, looking at the weapon almost fondly.

 

“You don’t happen to have our guns, too?” Sameen asked, leaning against the couch’s armrest slightly.

 

Fusco shook his head. “Nope. They have to go through ballistics first. But then I think you can have them back.”

 

Shaw nodded. The Smith & Wesson Bodyguard 380 as well as the Nano were two of her favorite backup pieces and it would be really sad to lose them.

 

“Your partner believed your story?” the Persian asset asked after a moment. Fusco had told Dani Silva, his new partner, that Drew Bennett and Sameen Hayes were indeed private investigators, who’d been involved in a joint undercover investigation, trying to solve a case of homicide.

 

Lionel shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I’m not sure. Silva’s a clever woman. She knows when something’s fishy.” For tonight, his new partner hadn’t ask as many questions as Fusco would have expected, but he wasn’t sure if it would stay this way. “Above that, you two might have to make a statement at the precinct soon.”

 

Root nooded. The Machine would give them the necessary information fot their cover story.

 

“Maybe we can recruit Silva,” Sameen mused.

 

Fusco and Root both raised their eyebrows at that in surprise and Shaw just looked at them.

 

“What?” she asked. “Think about it. She’s a good cop, she’s smart and from what Lionel told me she never really believed that John Riley was a cop.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Dani Silva’s not someone we want to have snooping after us. So, why not recruit her? Why not persuade her to work with us?”

 

Root tilted her head to one side, eyeing her girlfriend doubtfully. “Well, maybe because we’re a bunch of former killers, who technically don’t exist or are presumed dead and operate with quite dubious methods?”

 

Shaw just stared at her for a moment, unblinking. _Didn’t think of that. Huh…_ Apparently, her brain wasn’t at its best yet again. _Damn concussion…_

 

“Well, I know it’s easy to forget about that sometimes, Sweetie,” the hacker joked. “I fear the hits to her head killed a few brain cells,” she told Fusco conspiratorially, causing the detective to raise his brows in doubt and Sameen to glare at Root in mild annoyance. The hacker just smirked.

 

 _“I don’t think that Asset Shaw’s idea is so bad,”_ the Machine suddenly said, her voice echoing through the laptop speaker. _“Maybe there’ll be a way to include Detective Silva in our work.”_

 

 

Shaw just raised her eyebrows at Root wordlessly and pointed at the laptop with her index finger in a way that said _‘See? I told you so’_.

 

Root just hummed, not willing to admit immediately that she had been outvoted.

 

“It’s creepy when It does something like this,” Fusco muttered under his breath. He really wanted to know how Root could be so comfortable with an ASI in her ear 24/7.

 

There was a moment of silence when nobody said a word, until Shaw stood up, shrugging. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but after the night we had, I could use a drink.”

 

“You have a concussion, Shaw!” Root sounded a bit indignant and Sameen rolled her eyes slightly.

 

“I’ll just have two fingers then,” she mumbled. “Deal?”

 

The hacker nodded, apparently pleased with the compromise. “Deal.”

\-----

A few minutes later, Shaw, Root and Fusco were sitting at the kitchen table, an open bottle of Sameen’s best scotch in the middle and a glass for each of them. As promised, Sameen’s glass was filled with only two fingers of the clear amber liquid.

 

“To what shall we drink?” Fusco asked as he twirled the scotch around in his glass, making the ice cubes clink against each other.

 

“To the ones we’ve lost,” Sameen answered solemnly, raising her glass slightly from the table.

 

“And to the ones who are still with us,” Root added with a soft smile.

 

Fusco nodded as he raised his glass to his friends. “Amen to that.”

 

\----------

 

Cain Diaz lay in a hospital bed in the New York General, recovering after his gunshot wound had been treated and the surgeons had removed the bullet from his chest. He still wasn’t sure what had really went on this night, but he knew that he finally had solved his friend’s death.

 

Diaz had almost died, but he’d revenged Perez’ murder, saving Sameen and her crazy girlfriend on top of that. He guessed that there was more to them than what they had wanted to make him believe.

 

Trying to get into a more comfortable position in the hospital bed, the former Marine glanced at the get-well card Sameen had left him, a few words written on it. _‘Thank you, buddy. I owe you. S.’_ The words were simple, but they still meant a lot to Diaz. He was sure that Sameen hadn’t lied about her past as Marine. _But there’s definitely more._

 

Not able to go back to sleep right now, Diaz stared at the ceiling of his hospital room, his mind working, until his phone buzzed on the bedside cabinet.

 

Furrowing his brows, the former Marine took his phone into one hand and squinted at the screen. There was only one single message:

 

_Hello, Mr. Diaz. You don’t know me (yet). But I have a job for you as soon as you’re up and about again. If you’re interested, please contact me._

_Sincerely yours Ernest Thornhill._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the Machine obviously has her own ideas about recruiting... :D Let me know what you think about the idea adding Cain to the team (occasionally).


	15. Still of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root is used to have nightmares. What she isn’t used to is one compact Persian asset helping her deal with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter about something that’s been on my mind for some time. It’s turned out to be a little bit angsty and I touch the theme of trauma – hope you’ll like it though. 
> 
> Comments are a writer’s daily bread. So, please feed the author ;)
> 
> * Authors note:
> 
> It's been pointed out to me that this chapter is quite similarly to bruisespristine's fic 'Sleeping together'. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932499) I've looked it up and noticed the similarities, too. (It's kinda creepy how similar the stories are.)
> 
> I just want to point out that these similarities did *not* happen on purpose and that I didn't intentionally plagiarize another author's work. Apparently, there has been an overlap of situation *and* phrasing that led some people to the (understandable) conclusion that I may have stolen bruisespristines short fic. I did *not*.
> 
> If you look into the comments of this chapter, you'll see that the author named bruisespristine already knows about this strange occurence. I've removed and rewritten parts of this chapter to minimize the similarities of both fics and hope that the problem is solved this way.
> 
> (By the way: Go and read bruisespristine's fic - it's really good :))

 

* * *

 

 

Root’s heart hammered in her chest as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel of the SUV she was driving. She didn’t exactly remember how she’d gotten into this car. _Weird._ The one thing she knew, however, was that she had to get away from the someone – _or something?_ – that was hunting her.

 

She floored the gas pedal, the car speeding down streets that seemed far too empty. _When did New York turn into a ghost town?_ The hacker tried to make sense of this whole situation, but she just couldn’t think straight at the moment.

 

Shaking her head slightly in confusion, Root reached for her Smith & Wesson M&P, the familiar weight of the gun in her right hand giving her some kind of reassurance. Still desperately trying to remember how the hell she’d gotten into this situation, out of the corner of her eye the hacker suddenly saw movement on the roof of one of the buildings. She abruptly yanked her head up, a wave of adrenaline racing through her body.

 

_Sniper!_

 

“No!”

 

Root’s cry was slightly muffled by the sound of a bullet breaking the window. The car swerved to the left, coming to a halt a few moments later. The hacker’s breath came in short rapid spurts. She felt how pure and agonizing fear searched its way through her body, almost paralyzing her. _Damn bad feeling._

 

Although she wasn’t experiencing any pain at the moment, Root was quite sure that the bullet hadn’t missed her. For a second, the hacker had some sort of déjà vu, having this irritating feeling that she’d been in exactly the same position before. _Strange._

 

Slowly, Root looked down at her chest, expecting to see blood oozing from a gunshot wound. However, there was none. For a moment, the hacker just stared at the white shirt underneath her open leather jacket, wondering for a second why she couldn’t remember putting this on. _Have I been drugged?_ The piece of clothing was in an immaculate condition. Relief flooded Root at the realization that she indeed hadn’t been shot.

 

Then, she heard it. Quiet at first, then a bit louder.

 

“Root…”

 

This voice... _Sameen._

 

Sameen calling her name.

 

Root turned her head to the right and froze on the spot. On the passenger seat of the car sat her familiar compact Persian, staring at her with wide dark eyes.

 

“Sameen… This… makes no sense,” whispered Root, her voice wavering with confusion and fear. _Where the hell did she come from?_

 

The Persian asset just continued to stare at the hacker, her body rigid, posture almost robotic, and her lips forming her girlfriend’s name over and over again.

 

“Root.” It sounded urgent somehow.

 

The taller woman swallowed. Shaw’s eyes seemed weird to her, almost… lifeless. This whole situation seemed quite surreal. _Am I in the Twilight Zone?_

 

“Sameen…?” Root asked, hesitantly.

 

“Root.” Again. A bit more insistent.

 

“Sweetie, what-?” The rest of the question was caught in the hacker’s throat, when suddenly a dark patch was visible right in the middle of Sameen’s chest, the spot growing bigger with every second. Although the Persian’s usual black attire made it difficult to see, there was no doubt, what the liquid seeping through the fabric of her shirt was.

 

_Blood._

 

Realizing that the bullet had missed her, but not Shaw, Root shook her head unbelievingly, staring at her girlfriend with wide fearful eyes.

 

“No…,” she whispered, voice rife with terror. “It had to be _me_.” Not her. Never _her_. She wanted to reach out for her girlfriend, hold her, help her, do anything – but somehow it felt impossible for Root to move. It was as if she was a prisoner in her own body.

 

“No. Sameen…”

 

Root’s voice shook with desperation now. Not able to do much more than watching as the life left her girlfriend’s body in dark red streams, the hacker felt panic set in, flooding her body and brain like a tsunami. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

 

_No. No. No…_

 

More blood was seeping from Shaw’s chest now, drenching her clothes and the fabric of the passenger seat, but her eyes were still firmly focused on the hacker, almost accusingly.

 

“Root.”

 

Frozen in terror, the Machine’s Analog Interface felt as helpless as she’d rarely felt before in her life. Her body wasn’t obeying her will, leaving her unable to do anything to help the woman she’d fallen in love with.

 

“Sameen…,” Root whimpered again, desperation overwhelming her.

 

“Root…”

 

The hacker felt tears streaming down her face, a frantic cry escaping her throat eventually.

 

“No!”

 

“…Root!”

 

 

 

The hacker awoke with a start, almost falling over the edge of the bed as she pushed herself upright on the mattress. Her breathing was strained and irregular as she tried to fill her lungs with air. The blood pumping through her almost muffled the sound of the creaking bed springs. Almost. She turned her head to find the culprit of the disturbance.

 

“Root?” Sameen’s face was close to the hacker’s, only illuminated by a chink of moonlight peering through the curtains. To everyone else Shaw’s expression would’ve appeared impassive, but Root knew better – knew _Sameen_ better than anyone else.

 

It were those tiny signs. Like the light twitch of Shaw’s left eyebrow. The way her jaw tightened. The intensity in her eyes. The indications might’ve been subtle, but to Root it was clear that her girlfriend was worried. Worried about _her_.

 

It was still new for the hacker that someone honestly cared about her, _worried_ about her, and she still had difficulties to deal with it sometimes. Having been on her own for most of her life, Root was used to wake up from her nightmares alone. However, she _did_ have some rare and blurred memories of her mother sitting at the side of her bed when she’d been around four or five years old, trying to get her daughter back to sleep after especially vivid nightmares.

 

Root couldn’t honestly say that her mother hadn’t _tried_ , she just never had been much of a help, being too occupied with fighting her own issues. So, most of the time, there hadn’t been anyone who would’ve offered Root comfort – but there hadn’t been anyone who would’ve witnessed her vulnerability either. Which wasn’t _that_ bad.

 

When she’d become the Machine’s Analog Interface, the ASI had whispered comforting words into the hacker’s ear after she’d woken up from especially bad dreams. It had helped Root to calm down, but only when she and Sameen had begun to share a bed on a regular basis, she’d realized how much more comforting the presence of a human being could be after a nightmare than just an artificial voice in your ear.

 

There had been more than just one time when Root had been jilted from sleep by memories remaining from the terrors of her past. Shaw had never judged her, just comforted her silently, and the hacker had wondered time and time again how a person with a past like her’s could deserve someone like Sameen.

 

Over the noise of the rushing blood in her head and her shallow and scared breathing, the Machine’s Analog Interface could barely hear the voice that spoke, silent in the dark bedroom.

 

“Sorry I had to wake you. You were screaming in your sleep,” Shaw said quietly, looking at her girlfriend with concern in her eyes.

 

Sharing a bed with the tall hacker, Sameen had learned pretty fast that nightmares weren’t unusual for Root. Admittedly, the first time it had happened, the former ISA agent had acted like Root’s screams from the other side of the bed hadn’t woken her up, leaving her somewhat paralyzed with uncertainty of whether she should do anything. Thankfully, the hacker had went back to sleep shortly after, although she must’ve known that her girlfriend had been awake.

 

Despite telling herself she had only tried to respect Root’s privacy by pretending to be fast asleep, Shaw had felt bad about it, vowing to herself to never ignore the hacker’s nightly distress again.

 

By now, the Persian asset was used to waking up to her girlfriend twitching and moaning in her sleep. Sometimes it was over in a minute or two, without Root even waking up and Shaw just holding her in her sleep.

 

 _No_ , she won’t call it cuddling. Not even internally. _Nope._  

 

However, Sameen preferred it that way – despite telling herself that she did _not_ cuddle – because the hacker usually wasn’t in her best mood after having been woken up at night. However, sometimes Root’s nightmares were so bad that Shaw didn’t have a choice but to wake her girlfriend up and help her to calm down. Just like this time.

 

Even after Samaritan, nightmares weren’t really a problem for Shaw herself. Even without medical education, she would’ve known that she had some sort of PTSD. _Well_ , would’ve been weird if she _hadn’t_ after everything Samaritan had put her through. The former Marine also knew that 80 percent of people experiencing PTSD have frequent nightmares. Sameen, however, wasn’t one of them. She usually didn’t dream, or didn’t remember very often at least. That didn’t mean that she was sleeping well on a regular basis though. After everything Samaritan had done to her and the long road she’d taken back, Shaw was lucky if she got a good night’s sleep.

 

Also, it didn’t mean that she wasn’t battling any mental issues. Most of the time, they just happened to surface when she was awake and conscious, like those daytime flashbacks she was experiencing from time to time. Or those times when she asked herself if this was real, more or less subconsciously searching for a chip under the skin of her neck. Fortunately, everytime it had happened, Root had been there to ground her, to show her what was real.

 

However, the hacker was fighting her own problems, although they were a bit different story. Root had told Sameen once that she’d suffered from nightmares since she was a child. Shaw knew that frightening dreams were typical for children. Most people didn’t have them very often anymore once they’ve grown up. However, Root’s nightmares hadn’t vanished when she became an adult. No, they even got worse, occurring more frequently and keeping her from getting restful sleep time and time again.

 

Sameen was aware of the fact that her hacker girlfriend had gone through trauma in her life too – more than once. Losing her friend at the age of twelve, getting tortured by Control, losing Shaw to Samaritan – if only just temporarily – and almost dying from a gunshot wound were only the tip of the iceberg, as the Persian assumed. They never talked about it directly, but it was quite clear to Shaw that Root was suffering from PTSD, too. Putting on a brave face most of the time, the hacker’s subconsciousness apparently pushed its way through when she was asleep, with nightmares reflecting her traumata.

 

“I’m sorry.” Root’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant, in the darkness. In the dim light of their bedroom, Shaw could see the tear tracks staining her girlfriend’s face.

 

Sameen shook her head slightly. “You know that you don’t have to apologize for having bad dreams,” she replied quietly.

 

“Then I’m sorry for waking you up _because_ of them,” Root said somewhat thickly. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and gave a weak smile, clearly in an attempt to laugh off her tears. “I’m so-“

 

“If you say that you’re sorry again, I’ll smack you,” Shaw threatened quietly, although her words didn’t sound very convincing.

 

The hacker chuckled weakly, fully aware of the fact that Sameen’s threat was her own awkward way to tell her girlfriend that it was okay to show weakness sometimes, that it was alright to cry. Nevertheless, Root continued trying to stop the silent track of tears that rolled down her cheeks.

 

“You know, sweetie, I’m not really in the mood for that,” the hacker replied, trying to lighten the atmosphere in the room with a joke. A forced laugh followed the statement, an attempt to dissipate the tension that had filled the room.

 

Shaw just gave a swift eye roll as an answer, accompanied by an indignant snort. She then continued to gaze at Root with concern in her eyes, by now being used to her girlfriend’s attempts of deflection.

 

_Mission failed. Huh._

 

Root fell silent and turned away slightly, avoiding the searching eyes of the other woman next to her. The one whose presence she’d come to accommodate with a sense of home and safety. The woman who was strong in every possible sense of the word. The hacker silently cursed the sniffle she couldn’t conceal from Shaw.

 

The former ISA operative sighed quietly. “Look Root, you don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” There was a beat of silence, she then continued, “You know I’m not really good at this, but… if you want to tell me whatever it is that robs you of your sleep, I’m here. I’m listening.”

 

Root swallowed thickly, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. For someone who says she isn’t good at comforting people about their emotions, because she isn’t wired that way, Shaw did a really good job. The hacker was grateful for having Sameen at her side, acting like a lifeline, ready to bring her back from the darkness that she found herself in too many times.

 

“I watched you die. Again. There… was nothing I could do.” Root’s voice was nothing more than a whisper in the dark bedroom. However, Shaw had heard her.

 

“I’m here, Root” she replied after a moment of silence, her voice strong and reassuring, even though it was filled with the remnants of her sleep. “I’m safe. I’m here with you and we’re safe.” Her words sounded like a mantra. A mantra she’d been telling herself time and time again.

 

The hacker nodded slightly, willing herself to believe every word Shaw was saying while still trying to get rid of the horrible image of her beloved Persian bleeding out on the passenger seat of a car.

 

“You know, if I could I would shoot those bad dreams of yours. And not in the kneecaps.”

 

Shaw’s words had been meant to lighten the mood and her lips curled into a little smile when she actually heard Root laugh. Moonlight illuminated the other woman’s body and the Persian asset noticed how hard the hacker trembled. Resting a delicate hand on the small of Root’s back, Shaw also noticed that the light shirt the hacker was wearing was damp with cold sweat.

 

Ever the pragmatist, Sameen got up after a few moments and went over to the dresser on the other side of the bedroom. There was no need to turn on the light – she would’ve found her way even in total darkness. Not quite difficult for a former Marine and ISA agent.

 

A casual look at the glowing digits on her alarm clock told the Persian that it was just four minutes after three in the morning. Root’s eyes followed her in the dim light as Shaw fetched a t-shirt from one of the drawers.

 

“Here,” Sameen said as she went back over to the bed, handing Root the fresh piece of clothing. “Put it on. You’re completely drenched.”

 

The hacker’s lips curled into a smirk at that. “Well, Sameen, thought you like it when I’m drenched,” she quipped while taking the shirt from her girlfriend’s hands.

 

Shaw answered with an eye roll, although secretly she was glad that Root was back to her ‘puns and horrible innuendos’ self. It was a good sign.

 

Even in the dark, Root could see that Sameen had given her one of her old Marine’s shirts. A grin spread on her face. “Also thought you don’t like it when I wear your shirts, sweetie.”

 

They both knew that this wasn’t true. Shaw might put on a show everytime the hacker was borrowing – _stealing_ , Sameen would call it – her clothes, but secretly she liked it. Besides, the Persian’s tank tops and shirts were the only clothes Root borrowed – _stole!_ – occasionally. Because – _let’s be honest here_ – Shaw’s pants would’ve ended just below the hacker’s knees.

 

Root had made the mistake of voicing this thought in front of her girlfriend once. It had ended with a furious short Persian asset chasing a taller brunette hacker around the couch in their living room, with the threat of strangling her with those mentioned pants. And not in the fun way.

 

 _Well_ , Root had definitely lived to tell the tale though.

 

“Don’t read too much into it,” Sameen replied with a shrug. “It was just the first one I’ve grabbed. And-,” she tapped her index finger against the hacker’s chest, “-I don’t have to look at your terrible nerd shirts in our bed for once.”

 

This night the Machine’s Analog Interface wore a dark red shirt with the words _‘Nerd? I prefer the term Intellectual Badass’_ printed on its front.

 

_Where the hell does she get them from?_

 

Root just grinned. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself, darlin’…” She didn’t wait for Shaw’s response, but shrugged the drenched shirt over her head and simply tossed it into the room. It landed somewhere on the floor in the dark.

 

Shaw just shook her head as she went over to her own side of the bed. She had to admit that living with Root had turned out better than she would’ve ever imagined. (Not that she’d actually ever imagined such a thing before. _Nope._ ) It was surprisingly easy most of the times.

 

However, the hacker’s bad habit of leaving her stuff _everywhere_ in their apartment, was quite irritating, if not to say annoying. More than once, Shaw had stepped on Root’s electronic stuff spread on the ground. _If you think stepping on Lego is bad, try this._ Regularly, pieces of clothing as well as towels were left on the floor between bath and bedroom. The Persian had even found one of Root’s bras in the kitchen sink once. (Although that might’ve been _her_ fault to some degree.)

 

How someone was able to do coding with meticulous precision and be kinda messy in real life at the same time, was a damn mystery to Shaw.

 

Settling back into the bed, the Persian watched Root pull the olive-green shirt over her head. With her ribs not fully healed yet and her left thumb still splinted, her movements were still a bit slow and cautious. A week had passed since the beating they’d taken while working Diaz’ number and Sameen’s own injuries were only just healing. However, that didn’t keep her from giving in on an impulse and grabbing her hacker girlfriend once she’d managed to pull the shirt on, pulling her down, closer to her.

 

Root was a bit startled by being pressed against Sameen’s side without any prior warning. She stiffened at the sudden contact, but then quickly melted into Shaw’s grip.

 

“You good?” the Persian asked, meaning both the hacker’s bruised torso as well as her emotional state.

 

Root lifted her head a bit and nodded. “Yeah.” Her eyes were still a bit teary, but there was a big smile on her face. Shaw wouldn’t say it out aloud, because it would be kinda cheesy, but she really loved to see a genuine smile on the hacker’s face.

 

It didn’t take long for Root to really settle herself, shifting around until her body was nestled against Shaw’s in a quite comfortable way. The former ISA operative was totally okay with it for the moment, because a relaxed Root meant less nightmares. And more sleep for them both. _Completely logical and merely pragmatic, yes._ (And again, _no_ – Shaw wouldn’t call this cuddling.)

 

Pressing her face into Shaw’s shoulder, Root sighed contentedly. “Thank you,” she whispered. She meant for Sameen comforting her, being there for her in general. And for cuddling of course, but she knew that her compact Persian girlfriend didn’t like the word.

 

Shaw just hummed, while her thumb rubbed small gentle circles on the other woman’s back, hearing how her breathing evened out with every passing second. Touching without sex was still new and unfamiliar to Shaw, but she’d always been a quick learner. For now, it was enough to just lie there, hold Root and help her to get a good night’s rest.

 

Hearing the other woman snore softly at her side after a while, Sameen was quite sure that she’d done a good job this time.

 

 

\-----

 

 

When Shaw woke up the next morning, she found herself face to face with a grinning hacker, lying on top of her. For a moment, the Persian asset actually wondered if she was caught in another simulation, because – _what the fuck?_ – Root was rarely awake before her. And if she was, she seldom was in such a good mood, especially after a night filled with bad dreams.

 

“Who are you and what have you done with Root?” Sameen muttered, only half joking, frowning at the quite happy looking face above her.

 

Root’s eyebrows rose up a bit. “Well, I’d like to thank you for being there for me last night. And I know you like morning sex, so…” She trailed off and pressed her body suggestively into Shaw’s. When the woman beneath her just continued to frown at her, the hacker screwed her lips into a small pout. “Honestly? I’ve expected a little bit more enthusiasm, sweetie.” She started to withdraw, but was stopped suddenly by Sameen’s arms wrapped around her back.

 

The Persian shook her head slightly, while she held the other woman in place. “You know you don’t owe me anything, Root.”

 

The hacker shrugged her shoulders lightly. “Maybe not. But I’m still sorry for robbing you of your sleep, so-“

 

A loud crack resounded through the bedroom, instantly followed by Root’s yelp. Her backside stung underneath the thin fabric of her sleep shorts and she wondered for a moment if there might be a handprint visible at the spot where Sameen had smacked her just seconds ago.

 

The hacker detangled herself from her girlfriend’s arms slightly and stared at her with wide eyes, stunned by the unexpected move. “What was _that_ for!?” she demanded to know.

 

“For apologizing too much,” Shaw answered. “It’s not like I didn’t warn you though. I’ve told you last night I’d smack you if you’d say that you’re sorry again,” she elaborated, looking at Root with a deadpan expression. Shaw really hated that the hacker still seemed to think of herself as a burden sometimes, apparently still asking herself why Sameen shared her life with her, cared about her. _As if I could live without her anymore…_

 

“Well, I remember now,” Root mumbled, her face twisting into a light scowl as she reached behind and briefly rubbed at the sore spot.

 

Sameen sighed. “Look Root, you’re not… a burden or something like that, okay? I’m here for you because I _want_ to. Not because I expect something from you in return.” A short pause. “I need you to believe that,” Shaw added quietly. She gazed into her girlfriend’s still pouting face, hoping that Root would see the truth of her words reflected in her eyes.

 

The hacker looked down at the woman beneath her, biting her lip in thought. She still wasn’t used to the fact that someone cared about her because of… well, simply _her_. Sometimes she couldn’t believe her luck.

 

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Root nodded eventually. “I do,” she replied.

 

Shaw’s lips curled into a little smile. “You better.” Her hands started to rub her girlfriend’s back gently and Root’s body melted more into her’s, though there still was a slight pout on her face.

 

“I think I won’t sit down today,” the hacker mumbled after a few moments, her voice sounding a bit whiny.

 

Shaw couldn’t suppress an amused snort. She knew that she hadn’t hit _that_ hard. Besides, Root usually had a high pain tolerance, most of the time taking bullets without as much as batting an eyelash. However, the brunette hacker liked to be a drama queen sometimes, too.

 

“You’re really a baby sometimes, you know that?” Sameen said, a small chuckle leaving her throat.

 

“Am not.”

 

“Yeah, you are.”

 

“ _Nope_.” This time, the amusement shining in Root’s eyes betrayed the almost entirely fake pout on her face. She breathed in sharply as Shaw’s hand suddenly squeezed her butt, pain and pleasure blending together in a swirl of desire.

 

The Persian asset smirked when she felt Root’s hips grinding into her’s. “You know,” she said, ostensibly calm, “I said that I don’t _expect_ anything from you in return. But as far as I can remember, you’ve wanted to thank me quite willingly before.”

 

Root looked down at her through dark eyelashes, a promising grin on her face. “Well, yes. And I intend to thank you repeatedly, darlin’.”

 

Sameen’s lips curled into a grin, too. _Lucky me._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that my chapters are quite often Root centric. That’s because I really love to explore the complex layers of her character. Hope you don’t mind ;)


	16. Welcome to Miami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much-needed vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I’m back with a nice little chapter for you to enjoy. 
> 
> Comments are welcome, as usual. ;)

 

* * *

 

 

It was early in the moring and the sun just came up over the ocean. The orange hued rays of sunrise kissed soft waves and made them seem to glow golden. A few seagulls soared above the water, searching for their first meal of the day.

 

It was much too early for most of the tourists, so there were no people at the beach right now, save for one lonely figure sitting on top of one white dune.

 

Sameen Shaw silently watched the horizon, taking a sip from her coffee to go from time to time. A few days ago, the Persian asset had rent a car, packed a few things, grabbed Root and Bear and drove them down to Miami for a much-needed vacation. The Machine had assured them that the numbers were taken care of during their little break. Apparently, the ASI had recruited quite a few new assets over the last months. _Or even years?_

 

To Sameen’s surprise, Root hadn’t known that there had been a whole team operating in Washington for quite some time. Obviously, the Machine was much more of a secretmonger than the Persian had already thought. Nevertheless, Shaw trusted the ASI to recruit the best people for working the numbers. And, as far as she’d witnessed, Harper, Durban and Pierce were doing a good job.

 

Shaw gave a soft contented sigh. She felt oddly at peace, enjoying the warmth of the rising sun on her skin and the calmness of the early Florida spring morning. An hour ago, the former Marine had left a still sleeping Root in the queen-size bed of their hotel room to go for her morning run. A daily routine she’d resumed after her coming back from Samaritan’s captivity.

 

Sameen had taken Bear with her and right now, the dog was enthusiastically sniffing at driftwood that had been washed up to the shore. The Persian couldn’t help but grin at Bear’s happy woof as he’d found a piece of wood that was apparently to his liking. He picked up the branch, trotted over to his favorite human and let the piece of wood drop to the sandy ground in front of her.

 

The Persian asset smiled slightly as Bear eagerly looked at her, wagging his tail in anticipation.

 

“You want me to throw this for you, boy?” Shaw asked, grabbing the branch with a knowing smile.

 

Bear yipped with excitement, executing a little dance on his four paws that reminded Sameen of an agitated racehorse.

 

The Persian asset laughed at the dog’s antics. “Go get it, boy!” she said as she threw the piece of wood as far as she could. Then, she watched as Bear raced after it, down the dune.

 

“Nice throw, sweetie.”

 

Sameen Shaw _definitely_ didn’t jump at Root’s sudden voice behind her. _Nope_. She just hadn’t expected the hacker to be up at this early hour to find her at the beach.

 

“Sneaking up on people is usually my job, you know?” the former ISA operative casually said as she half turned around to look at her girlfriend.

 

Root gave her a little smirk. “Who says we can’t change the role allocation from time to time?” She let herself down to the ground beside Shaw, stretching her legs.

 

Her _bare_ and _very long_ legs.

 

Shaw took a moment to appreciate the sight of the hacker’s immaculate limbs, her eyes slowly trailing up her legs to the point where her tighs met the fabric of her thin cotton shorts. Looking up again, the Persian could see a knowing grin on Root’s face.

 

“Enjoying the view, darlin’?” the hacker teased.

 

Quite some time ago, Shaw’s response most likely would’ve been a snarky comment or an annoyed eyeroll, but now she just held Root’s gaze, answering with a smirk of her own. “You bet I do.”

 

The hacker gave a pleased smile. However, before she could respond in kind, Bear came back, racing up the dune, right towards his favorite human No. 2. He dropped the piece of wood in front of Root and nudged the hacker’s arm with his snout, clearly in an attempt to get her to play with him.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Root cooed, patting the dog’s head and rubbing his ears, making Bear whine with joy and excitement.

 

Shaw shook her head in mild surprise at this. “Everytime you’re around this dog turns into your little bitch,” she noted. “How the hell is that even possible? _I’m_ usually the one who feeds him, _I’m_ the one who takes him for a walk and _I’m_ the one who gives him the best treats.” There actually was a small pout on the Persian’s face and Root had to suppress a laugh.

 

“Jealous, sweetie?” the hacker teased. When Shaw just answered with a deadpan look, Root shrugged her shoulders. “You know I have my ways.” She leaned more into her Persian girlfriend to conspiratorially whisper in her ear, “Found my way into your heart, too, didn’t I?”

 

Sameen’s eyeroll was more out of habit than actual annoyance. She slightly shook her head, her lips pulling into an amused little smile. “I think you did,” she murmured at last.

 

For a moment, it wasn’t clear who beamed more – the sun or Root. The hacker then grabbed Bear’s new wooden toy and threw it so he could fetch it again. It landed in the sand just a few feet away.

 

“You throw like a girl,” Shaw commented dryly and Root gave her a sulking look.

 

“I _am_ a girl.”

 

Sameen just looked at her deadpan, waiting until Bear came back a few seconds later. She then took the stick from his snout and threw it so far that it almost landed on the shore. The dog raced after it with a happy yip and the former ISA operative faced her girlfriend again, raising her brows.

 

“Well, not all of us can have such power in their arms, sweetie,” the hacker remarked, rubbing her hands down Shaw’s bare right bicep. By now, she knew every muscle in Sameen’s body. However, she was still amazed anew every time she had her girlfriend’s body under her hands at _how_ well toned Sameen Shaw really was.

 

“You shouldn’t wear yourself out though,” Root whispered shortly afterwards. “We may need that arm power later.”

 

Shaw couldn’t help but grin. If there’d be a prize for overt come-ons and bad innuendos, Root would definitely win it.

 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sameen answered, “I could throw sticks for Bear for hours and could still fuck you through the floor at the end of the day without problems.”

 

The hacker hummed approvingly. “Mh, we definitely should put this to a test to see if it’s true. As soon as possible.”

 

The former ISA operative chuckled softly. “Thought I gave you a fine demonstration just last night.”

 

“Yeah, you did,” Root agreed with a grin. “However, as you know a series of tests produces much more valid results,” she explained, batting her eyelashes at her girlfriend.

 

Sameen chuckled again. “Nerd.”

 

“And you like it,” Root sing-songed.

 

The other woman just rolled her eyes in response, good-naturedly. _Yeah, I do._ She shook her head slightly in amusement at their little banter. Then she went more serious again. “Anyway, since when are you up this early?”

 

If she didn’t have to run errands for the Machine – which sometimes resulted in no sleep for days – Root usually wasn’t a morning person. Sometimes she was writing code lines until late at night and Shaw had to drag her to bed. Literally. And if the former Marine wouldn’t kick her out of bed regularly, her hacker girlfriend would surely sleep until noon at least. So, Root being up at around six o’clock in the morning was quite a rare occurrence.

 

The hacker shrugged. “Woke up. You weren’t there. She told me I’d find you here.”

 

Shaw frowned. “Bad dreams again?” Sadly, nightmares were quite usual for Root. However, during their stay in Miami, the hacker had slept like a baby. _At least until now._

 

Root shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I just…” She absentmindedly touched her right ear with her fingertips. Just a few days before they’d went down to Miami, she’d gotten her new implant. So, the wound behind the hacker’s right ear was still a bit fresh. “I must’ve slept on my right side, because it stung quite a bit when I woke u-“

 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the former ISA agent interrupted her girlfriend, a frown on her face.

 

The hacker shrugged her shoulders lightly. “Didn’t want to worry you, I guess.”

 

Shaw huffed and shook her head. “Yeah, better not worry me and die of sepsis,” she responded dryly.

 

“Sweetie, I’m surely not-“

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Sameen cut her off again, already getting up to change sides. “Let me have a look,” she demanded in full doctor mode now, crouching down at Root’s right side.

 

The hacker smiled lightly when Shaw grabbed her chin – firm, but as soft as possible – and tilted her head a bit to get a better look at her right ear. “You know I love it when-“

 

“-I play doctor,” Sameen finished her sentence with a slight eyeroll. “I know, Root. And now hold still.”

 

The hacker hummed softly, still a small smile on her lips. The feeling of Sameen’s fingers gently brushing her hair to the side was really nice.

 

The feeling of her poking around the fresh stitches under the bandage – not so much.

 

Root winced and tried to pull her head back, but Shaw’s gentle, but firm grip stopped her.

 

“Just a second more,” the Persian asset promised, knowing that the pain she was causing right now wasn’t the only problem. Since her run in with Control Root was quite sensitive about someone touching the right side of her head and especially her right ear. Which, in Shaw’s opinion, was totally understandable for someone who’d gotten an unnecessary stapedectomy without anesthesia.

 

“That’s not really sanitary, isn’t it?” Root pressed out between her teeth, while trying to ignore the sting behind her ear.

 

“Not really,” Shaw agreed. “However, I’m just looking for possible inflammations. So, it’s okay for now.” There was a moment of silent poking and prodding, then Shaw let go of Root’s head, apparently pleased with the result of her examination.

 

“Looks normal. No inflammations,” she explained. “Although the wound’s still fresh.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s still healing, so it’s normal that it stings a bit from time to time.”

 

Root nodded. “See? No need to worry,” she told Sameen with a little smile as she pushed her hair back over her ear, concealing the bandage behind it. It was nice to have a permanent direct line to the Machine again – even though having the cut behind her ear reopened once again hadn’t been much fun.

 

Shaw hummed. “Hope your little nerd squad thought of an emergency switch when they redesigned your CI.”

 

Although the Persian asset and the Machine 3.0 were back on more good terms by now, Shaw hadn’t forgotten about the story of how the ASI had overloaded Her Analog Interface’s implant when She’d figured her for an enemy. So, when Root’s hacker friends, Jason Greenfield, Daniel Casey and Tatsuro Daizo, had designed the new cochlear implant, Sameen had instructed them to built in some kind of safety, so that something like that couldn’t happen again.

 

Root had been wise enough not to argue about this. In fact, she had to agree that it was a clever idea. Although she really wanted to trust the Machine completely again, she’d seen – and felt – what the consequences could be if an Artificial Super Intelligence turned against you.

 

The hacker nodded. “Yes, they did. I think it’s safe to say that She won’t use me as bargaining chip again.”

 

 _“In defense of my predecessor I have to say that She was confused at that time,”_ the Machine’s voice sounded through Root’s new implant. _“You’re my interface. It’s not my intention to hurt you.”_

 

The Analog Interface tilted her head slightly. “I know,” she responded softly.

 

Sameen raised her brows questioningly, knowing that Root had been talking to the Machine. “What did She say?”

 

“That She doesn’t want to hurt me,” the hacker answered, a slight smile on her face.

 

Shaw nodded. “She better not. Because if She ever does again, I’ll put some bullets in her artificial ass,” she promised with a grim look.

 

Root chuckled lowly. “You know that’s kinda difficult to do, right, sweetie? Because She’s all over the power lines again.”

 

The other woman shrugged. “I do have my ways, too,” she replied.

 

“I guess you do,” the hacker agreed with a small grin. She then leaned herself more against her companion, looking out on the horizon. She knew that Sameen Shaw usually wasn’t someone who’d cuddle – especially not in public. However, right now, she accepted the physical contact without complaining and Root appreciated this very much. They both fell silent for some time, just enjoying the peace and the comforting presence of the other woman.

 

“Never thought we’d make it here,” Root’s voice cut the silence after what felt like an eternity but in reality were just about a few minutes.

 

“You mean Miami?” Shaw asked, furrowing her brows.

 

The hacker shook her head. “No.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, yeah, that too.”

 

Root and Shaw _had_ been to Miami before, where they’d dealt with a group of drug dealers who’d been starting to build explosives. It all now seemed like a lifetime ago. However, they’d been to the city for a relevant number – _not_ for a vacation. Right now, however, there weren’t any numbers to deal with – relevant or irrelevant – but just two people who enjoyed their little break.

 

“But what I really meant is _us_ ,” Root explained further, looking at Shaw. “ _Us_. As in _you_ and _me_. _Together_. _Alive_.” _Enjoying a peaceful morning at a Miami beach._

 

The other woman held her gaze, her expression stoic as usual, but with a tiny touch of softness around the edges. “Yeah. Me neither,” she admitted. “But here we are. And…,” she made a little pause, “I like it.”

 

Root’s heart made a joyful jump at Shaw’s statement. Her little Persian firecracker admitting that she liked something was a rare occurrence and the hacker knew that for a person like Sameen it kinda equaled a declaration of love. She couldn’t help herself but grab her girlfriend and press a quick, but nevertheless enthusiastic kiss against her lips, before pulling away again.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes at the heart eyes Root sent her way, suppressing a smile. She’d never admit it out loud, but she really liked that look of pure joy and love on her girlfriend’s face.

 

“Alright,” the former ISA operative eventually said, getting up from the ground, “let’s go and grab some breakfast before I think I’m stuck in some kind of rom-com simulation with little sappy you.”

 

Root chuckled as she grabbed Sameen’s hand and let herself pulled into a standing position. _Good to have a girlfriend with a lot of power in her arms._

 

Shaw gave a short whistle and just a moment later, Bear was back at their side as they were making their way back to the city.

 

“Remember the last time we were in Miami?” the former ISA agent asked with a little grin.

 

Root answered with a smirk of her own, while swirling up a bit of white sand with her feet. “Absolutely,” she drawled with a suggestive wiggle of her brows. “As I recall there were nice cocktails, steamy sex and a little bit of violence.”

 

Shaw nodded, smiling at the memory. “Yep. And I totally intend our current vacation to be exactly like that.”

 

The hacker gave her companion a million-watt smile. “That totally can be arranged, sweetie.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, it’s fluffy. But I thought our two lovely ladies deserved it. Don’t worry, I promise to write more gun-wielding action again in future chapters. ;)


	17. Venice drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue conversation between two friends.

* * *

As one of the most visited cities in Europe, Venice was overcrowded with tourists all year long. – Especially, on an afternoon in late spring, when the temperature was perfect for sightseeing and the sun was warming people’s skin in a pleasant way instead of melting their faces off.

 

Even though they’d been living of tourism for decades, most of Venice’s inhabitants weren’t too fond of the crowds of people that were jamming the old downtown on a daily basis.

 

Well, _most_ of them. – Because Harold Finch _wasn’t_ one of them.

 

If anything, Finch appreciated the thousands of people that surrounded him on _Piazza San Marco_ at the moment, making it easier for him to blend in, sitting at a table of an outdoor café. Even though he didn’t have to hide from an evil ASI anymore, he liked to live his life as unobtrusive as possible.

 

Leaving New York all these months ago, hadn’t been so much a well-thought of plan as a simple urge to find the only person that could give his life a new purpose after he’d thought that he’d lost everyone and everything that had mattered to him. Nathan, John, Root, Elias – they all had been dead. And, most importantly, he’d thought the Machine had been gone too.

 

Although he had checked on Shaw and Fusco, learning about their survival, he couldn’t have brought himself to contact them. Staying in NYC, where there had been nothing left for him, hadn’t been an option for Finch at that time. So, he’d dragged himself to Venice in Italy, the only wish in his head to reunite with his former fiancée, Grace.

 

And then the Machine had contacted him – his creation, born anew like a Phoenix from the ashes – and for the first time in such a long time Harold Finch had been truly happy. He’d been ready to turn on the spot, leave Italy behind and fly back to New York. However, the ASI had told him to go through with his original plan to reunite with Grace.

 

Finch had been convinced that it had to do with the fact that the Machine had been playing matchmaker between them from the start and apparently was a sucker for happy endings at heart.

 

The truth was that She hadn’t needed much effort to convince Her admin that pursuing his own happiness had been the right thing for him to do after the whole AI apocalypse.

 

Although his decision had been made at that point, Harold Finch couldn’t have known how Grace would react to the revelation that the man she’d thought of dead was still alive. Still, he had just hoped for her forgiveness, even though he hadn’t been quite sure if he’d been worth it.

 

Unsurprisingly, Grace had been stunned, shocked even at first to see Harold alive and well, having believed him dead for years. However, her shock had turned into pure joy shortly after. Finch had told her everything that had happened since that fateful ferry explosion on September 26 in 2010 and Grace – _beautiful and amazing Grace_ – had listened carefully, interrupting just a few times to ask a question now and then.

 

When Harold had ended his explanation, he hadn’t been sure if telling Grace everything had been the right decision – he still didn’t know if it was – but after having lived with lies for years he’d wanted to be honest with the woman he loved.

 

However, Finch had been worried that Grace would turn away from him. After all, he would’ve understood if she had reacted that way. Instead, she’d welcomed him with open arms and for the second time in short order Harold Finch had felt pure happiness.

 

Ever since their reunion, he and Grace had been living in an apartment in the historic disctrict of the city. It was a nice place to live, even though the rent was horrifically high. Grace still worked as graphic artist and illustrator, while the Machine had provided Finch with the job of a professor for literature studies at the _Università Ca’ Foscari di Venezia_ , the university of Venice. One could say that they’d settled into their Venetian life nicely.

 

Finch’s peaceful Italian life had only been interrupted once since he’d settled down in Venice when Root had called him unexpectedly, telling him the story of how the Machine had faked her death. The ASI’s creator remembered feeling a bunch of different emotions at this revelation.

 

At first, there had been the shock of hearing the voice of someone he’d believed to be dead for a while and realizing that it indeed hadn’t been the Machine’s chosen voice this time. Then, there had been joy at the fact that Root was still alive. Root, the woman who’d went from being his enemy to one of his closest friends.

 

His friend, who’d taken a bullet for him.

 

Last but not least, there had been a bit of anger, but at the same time understanding, too. After hearing that the ASI had faked Root’s death and then let everyone believe she’d died, Finch had been angry with the Machine for doing something that was just cruel in his opinion. However, Root had explained the all-seeing entity’s motivation behind this action to him and Finch had realized that his creation had chosen this way to win the war against Samaritan and increase the chances for Her human assets to make it out alive.

 

After all, they _all_ had made some morally questionable decisions with good intent in the past. Why should an artificial intelligence be an exception to this?

 

Finch took a sip from his Sencha, looking over St. Mark’s Square lost in thought, when suddenly a tall and slender figure slid in the chair opposite of him.

 

“Hello, Harry. Did you miss me?”

 

Finch tried not to choke on his tea, as he was suddenly face-to-face to a smirking Root. He was glad that he’d already known that his friend was still alive, otherwise he might’ve gotten a shock or another life threatening bodily reaction.

 

“Miss Groves,” Harold brought out after a small coughing fit. “Root.”

 

The hacker gave a pleased smile at the use of her chosen name. “Sorry, Harold. I didn’t want to startle you,” she apologized, grinning slightly and hardly looking sorry at all.

 

“You could have called to let me know of your visit beforehand,” Finch suggested.

 

The hacker shrugged her shoulders. “I wanted to surprise you.”

 

“Well, then you’ve been successful in doing so,” Finch replied with a small smile on his lips.

 

For a moment, he took in the sight of the woman sitting across from him. Her brown hair was falling around her face in its usual waves, although it was a bit shorter than he remembered. She was clad in a light sand-colored linen blouse instead of her typical black leather jacket, which was perhaps down to the fact that it was a warm and sunny day. Finch also noticed that Root’s skin was a bit more tanned these days, making her look quite healthy.

 

“You look good,” Finch eventually stated. “Happy,” he added after a second.

 

“You too,” the hacker answered, smiling, and Harold nodded.

 

There was a moment of silence between them, then Root asked, “How’s Grace?”

 

“She’s good,” Finch replied. “She’s doing great actually. She’s at home at the moment, illustrating her new children’s book.”

 

Root nodded. Another moment of silence.

 

Although they’d talked over the phone some time ago, trying to clear the air and make a new start, it was still a bit awkward between them. It was obvious to either of them that their dynamic wasn’t the same as before. Too much had happened since.

 

“How are Detective Fusco and Miss Shaw?” Finch eventually broke the silence.

 

“Oh, they’re doing great,” Root replied. “Although I think that Lionel’s a bit happy that he doesn’t have to deal with me for a few days,” she added with a smirk, making Finch smile in response.

 

“And Shaw,” the hacker continued a moment later, “well…” She tilted her head a bit, raising her brows at her counterpart. “Sameen’s still kinda pissed at you for leaving.”

 

Harold nodded. “That’s… understandable.” He looked a bit uncomfortable as he met his friend’s gaze again. “I know that my… leaving after such a hard time must’ve looked like the action of a coward.”

 

The hacker hummed softly at that. “Maybe,” she said. After a short pause, she asked, “Why didn’t you contact Sameen and Lionel? I mean, you did find out eventually that they were alive, didn’t you?”

 

Harold’s fingers fiddled with the handle of his teacup. “Yes, I did. And the Machine confirmed it.” He sighed. “To be honest, I didn’t contact them because I thought that they’ve endured enough because of me.” He looked directly at Root, and for a moment, she could see the grief in his eyes.

 

“Every person,” he went on, “who’s been involved with me, everyone I’ve been holding dear, has been hurt. Or _worse_.” He shook his head, trying to shove away the memory of Root’s lifeless body in the driver’s seat of that car, dying right in front of him while he’d been dragged away by the police.

 

“There’s been so much pain, so much destruction.” Harold shook his head slightly. “I know that it may seem selfish, but I couldn’t bear the thought anymore that people risk their lives to protect me.” He looked up, meeting the hacker’s thoughtful gaze. “All I could think of after it was all over was a fresh start.” A pause. “And I wanted the same for Miss Shaw and Detective Fusco.”

 

Root didn’t reply right away, but just looked at Finch for a moment, the man who’d created God. The man who’d went from being the victim of her kidnapping to one of her closest friends – and she definitely didn’t have many of them –, to someone she deeply trusted and respected.

 

They might not have always agreed on how to get things done, however, that hadn’t diminished the hacker’s admiration for Harold Finch. Neither her willingness to protect him at every cost. And one thing Root was absolutely sure of – she would do it all over again.

 

“Do you remember how I told you that I wouldn’t change any of the things that have happened?” the hacker asked eventually.

 

“Yes,” Finch replied softly, nodding his head.

 

“Well, it’s still true, Harold,” Root said. “You and your creation – you’ve… given purpose to people like us. Like _me_.” A pause. “Every one of us has made a _conscious_ _decision_ to be a part of this fight, fully knowing the risks. Because we _believed_ in Her. And you.”

 

Finch closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head lightly. “And you’ve paid a high price for it.” He opened his eyes again, looking at Root sadly. “John… is dead. And you…” He swallowed. “You almost died protecting me.”

 

Root nodded, grimly blinking away a few tears that had watered her eyes at the thought of the big lug. Instead, she gave Harold a confident smile. “Yes. And I don’t regret it. I’d do it again. And you know that John would tell you the same.”

 

For a moment, both of them just looked at the other, sharing their grief over a lost friend in silence.

 

“I’ve told you before,” Harold eventually said, “but I think it’s appropriate to tell you this directly. _Thank you_ for saving my life.”

 

The brunette hacker smiled lightly, tilting her head to the side. “You’re welcome, Harold.” She was a bit surprised when Finch suddenly put his hand over hers on the table.

 

“I’m really grateful that you survived your injuries, Miss Gro-... _Root_.”

 

The hacker shrugged one shoulder slightly. “Well, you know, it needs more than a high caliber round to take me out,” she told him with a smirk.

 

Finch just gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand for a moment. There was a short pause, where none of them said a word, then the Machine’s creator pulled his hand back.

 

“You told me that Miss Shaw seems rather… uhm… displeased with me leaving,” Finch said.

 

Root couldn’t suppress a little smirk at her counterpart’s usual eloquent manner of speech. “Yep, she is.”

 

“How about you?” he asked tentatively. “Are you still mad at me?”

 

The hacker shook her head. “No. Not anymore.” She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I mean, I was disappointed at first that you just left, yes. I’ve told you before.”

 

Finch nodded, remembering the phone call a few months ago.

 

“But I also told you,” Root went on, “that I understand your decision.” She could imagine how her friend must have felt right after the AI apocalypse. There had been no numbers, no purpose, nothing – except painful reminders of everything that he had lost.

 

However, she’d been angry at him for being so stubborn before, for refusing to let the Machine be autonomous. Also, she’d been sad and a bit angry too at first at hearing that Harold had abandoned his creation and his friends after all that they’d been through together. Although, in Finch’s defense, Root had to acknowledge that her friend had been thinking that everyone had been dead at that point.

 

Furthermore, the hacker understood the meaning of chasing happiness. Apparently, Harold had found it in the form of his former fiancée forgiving him. _And She did encourage him to do so, didn’t She?_

 

“I’m happy for you,” the Machine’s Analog Interface said eventually, a forgiving smile playing around her lips.

 

Finch looked genuinely surprised at that, nevertheless pleased at this revelation. “Thank you,” he muttered. “It means a lot to me.” He sighed softly. “Please tell Miss Shaw-“

 

“-that you’re sorry for being a dick?” a familiar voice suddenly said, as a certain compact Persian plunked herself down in the chair next to Root.

 

“Miss Shaw!” Finch called out in surprise and the former ISA agent looked at him smugly, apparently happy with herself for having him startled a bit.

 

“Hey, Sam,” Root greeted her girlfriend with a small grin, obviously having awaited her emergence. “Did you have a nice sightseeing tour?”

 

The other woman shrugged her shoulders. “Was okay.” She looked at Finch and pointed her index finger at him. “You left Bear behind. That was definitely _not_ okay,” she told him bluntly.

 

Harold found himself dumbfounded by this statement, but recovered after a moment. “I had a good reason to, Miss Shaw,” he defended himself.

 

Sameen frowned. “That is?”

 

“You.”

 

The Persian’s frown deepened. “ _Me_?”

 

Harold nodded. “Yes. I knew that you grew quite fond of Bear and would take care of him. You’ve lost so much, Miss Shaw, and… I thought having Bear would help you.”

 

Shaw’s brows rose in surprise. _Huh._ _Who would’ve thought?_ She stared at Finch for a moment, then shot a glance at Root, who just smiled at her. Eventually, she looked back at the Machine’s creator.

 

“Okay,” Sameen muttered, still a bit grumpily, nevertheless the hint of a smile playing around the corner’s of her mouth, “maybe I’ll forgive you. _But_ ,” she held up her index finger, “you’ll buy me a steak first.”

 

Finch smiled lightly at that. “With pleasure, Miss Shaw.”

 

 

\----------

 

 

“Want to stay in Venice a few days more?” Shaw asked after they’d said their goodbyes to Finch and headed back to their hotel room.

 

Root shook her head. “No. I don’t really want to stay much longer.” She sighed softly. “I suppose us and Harry are going to be moving in separate ways for the rest of our lives now.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Sameen replied. “The Machine will keep an eye on him.”

 

The tall hacker nodded. “Yeah, she will.”

 

“So,” Shaw said after a short pause, “what’re you saying? Back to New York?”

 

“I don’t know, Sam,” Root replied, tilting her head and smiling slightly, “She told me that there’s a new number in Prague. I’ve heard the city’s really nice at this time of the year.”

 

The Persian answered with a grin of her own. Vacation time had been nice, but now she was longing for some action that hopefully involved guns and some asskicking.

 

“What’re we waiting for then? Let’s go.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that some people don’t have a high opinion of Finch and think of him as the biggest asshole on earth for the decisions he’d made, especially leaving New York in the end to find happiness in the form of Grace. That’s okay, because everyone is entitled to his or her own views. 
> 
> However, my point of view is a little bit more complex. I can understand that Harold Finch left New York after the whole AI apocalypse. People, who’d mattered to him, had died and he’d blamed himself for that – whether with reason or not isn’t relevant for this fact. 
> 
> Let’s also not forget he’s just a civilian, not a trained soldier like Shaw or Reese, or at least a police officer like Fusco. Remember how Finch had some sort of PTSD after Root had kidnapped him and had problems to go outside for a while? He deals with problems a little bit differently than his companions and if it means ‘fight or flight’, he sometimes choses the latter.
> 
> Some people also tend to forget that Finch played a big role in Root’s story arc and for her character development. They may have started differently, but in the end, they’d been close friends. So close that Root even swerved that car, to make sure that she takes the bullet instead of Harold. 
> 
> Although I’ve implied that Root and Finch talked over the phone a few chapters ago, there still were some – unresolved – aspects, I’ve wanted to be addressed. So, this chapter is my take on this. I hope you liked it :)
> 
> By the way, the title of this chapter is borrowed from a Duran Duran song – Venice drowning (in emotion).
> 
> I’d love to read your comments on this one! 
> 
> Oh, and happy Fourth of July for all the readers in the US! :)


	18. Author's note. - No worries, NO end of the story...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note. - No worries, NO end of the story...

Hello folks! 

I know it's been a while since I've posted a new chapter and I'm really sorry for that... 

Last year I went through serious health issues, so I had to put this story on hold. Fortunately, I'm better now, but I got a new job, which keeps me busy pretty much and leaves me very few time for writing fiction. 

I just wanted to let you know that I'm NOT planning to abandon this story, because there's so much stuff that I want to write down still, like introducing my new character Cain Diaz as new member of Team Machine or digging deeper into Root's past. So I'm hoping that I can start writing again in the future, hopefully at the end of the year.

I know that POI ended two years ago, but hopefully there are enough Shoot fans left, who want to read more of this little fiction of mine. :)

Greetings from Germany!


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